Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I should go. I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper,” Will said, grinning softly. Hannibal looked mildly amused by that while he finished making his tomato-serum sauce. Will tried his best not to be too disgusted by it.

“Rippers?” Hannibal asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Devon Silvestri was harvesting organs but not with the Chesapeake Ripper. No connection between them,” he replied.

Hannibal hummed. “Jack must be devastated.”

Will shrugged, not that Hannibal would precisely notice. He was immersed in his task. Preparing a feast for his ravenous crowd of admirers. “Enjoy the wine,” he said by way of excusing himself.

“I would enjoy it much more if you would stay,” Hannibal insisted. Will paused by the doorway of the kitchen, turning to him while shifting his feet.

“I’m… I’m not dressed for a dinner party,” he said warily. “Besides that, I doubt I’d have much in common with your… friends.”

Hannibal passed off what he was working on to one of his sous chefs, turning to Will with a hesitant smile. “If it would encourage you to stay, I would change into pajamas.”

Will laughed, hiding his blush behind his curls. “You would not.”

He tilted his head playfully. “Perhaps not. It would still please me if you stayed. Stay, Will.”

The thought alone gave Will anxiety. He didn’t know these people, and he sure as shit didn’t feel comfortable staying at a dinner party like this. He’d had a steady headache all day, and he honestly just wanted to go home to his dogs.

Friendship was an uncomfortable thing. It required a give and take, and Will understood that if he wanted the easy friendship he’d found with Hannibal, then there would need to be some give on his end.

He sighed, rubbing absently at the back of his neck. “I can stay for dinner, but… that’s it.”

Hannibal beamed at him as he walked towards the threshold, placing a heavy palm on Will’s shoulder. “I’m honored, Will.”

“We’ll see how honored you feel when I accidentally offend one of your guests,” he said, averting his eyes to Hannibal’s sternum.

“Nonsense,” Hannibal said, smiling so brightly that the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Let me take your coat.”

Guests began filtering in promptly at seven, and Will avoided them by loitering in the corner of the room with a glass of wine. It gave him the rare opportunity to see Hannibal in his element, and it was a theatrical experience to behold. Everything about his demeanor was pretentious and false. He laughed at jokes that weren’t funny and smiled at each guest with a Ken-doll plastic grin. He talked about artwork and snapped his fingers for wine glasses to be refilled.

Will wished he’d have refused this entire situation.

Alana hovered by Hannibal’s side, her smile warm and flirtatious as she followed him around the room. She looked… perfect with him. They were dressed impeccably; her in a soft red dress, Hannibal in a crisp black suit. She’d reach out occasionally and touch his arm or his elbow, her smile wide as she beamed up at him. What upset him more than anything else was that Hannibal… allowed it. They looked like a power couple, and Hannibal allowed it.

He glanced down at himself, touching his worn button-down with dismay. His thoughts were an endless circle: He did not belong here.

She came over to him eventually, her smile a forced little thing that Will knew was not genuine. “I’m surprised that you stayed,” she said, trying to affect her tone with teasing, but all he heard was condescension.

“Doctor Lecter asked me to,” he shrugged.

“Yes,” she said while her eyes sought Hannibal out in the room again. “That was… nice of him.”

“I haven’t eaten yet, so yeah. It was.” He forced a friendly chuckle that came out more awkward than anything else.

Her eyes danced over his worn clothing before darting off towards Hannibal again. “You had no intention of staying though, did you?”

He grimaced while sipping his wine, touching his worn-out shirt again with embarrassed fingers. “Nope. I planned to ding-dong ditch with a bottle of wine left behind. Dr. Lecter threatened to wear pajamas to the dinner party if I didn’t stay.”

The look she tossed him was very, very, confused, and she sipped her own wine while trying to make sense of it.

He knew she disapproved of their… friendship. He knew it because he could read her like an open book. What he wasn’t sure about was why. Maybe it was because she considered Hannibal to be his therapist, even though, technically, he wasn’t.

Maybe she was jealous of the time they spent together, although that seemed entirely unlikely.

She wandered away after an awkward silence, heading over to one of the women she knew from her practice. He watched her go ruefully while swigging his wine, wishing again that he’d have just gone the fuck home like he wanted to.

Hannibal glanced up and noticed Will, who was doing his best to become one with the wallpaper, and he ventured over. His plastic smile melted into his real one, and Will’s shoulders relaxed. “You’re not enjoying yourself,” he said softly.

“I thought I was having dinner at a friend’s home,” Will griped, raising an eyebrow as well as his wine glass. “He’s been suspiciously absent.”

Hannibal smirked at him over the rim of his own glass. “When you are in my home, you are always having dinner with a friend. When I do this,” he gestured out at the crowded living area and foyer, “you’re having dinner with Count Doctor Hannibal Lecter the eighth.”

Will snorted, hiding his smile in his wine glass. “He sounds like a pretentious jerk.”

“He is,” Hannibal agreed with a smile that reached his eyes. “Who I am in your company is not, however.”

“Debatable,” Will teased, boldly nudging his shoulder with his own. “I’ve seen several different sides to you tonight, and Duchess Count Hannibal Doctor Lecter the eighth is my least favorite.”

“Duchess,” Hannibal repeated drolly. “Rude, Will.”

Will laughed, earning himself a smile from Hannibal in response. “Watching you save a life was… eye opening.”

“In what way?”

“I knew you were a doctor,” Will said after a sip of earthy red wine. “I knew that, yet… seeing it was something else entirely. You haven’t told your friends that you’re a hero.”

“Nor will I,” Hannibal admitted, glancing out over his crowd of minions. “They’ve no desire to hear such things, and I have no desire to share them. They come for a dinner experience, something noteworthy that they can talk about for months to come. They come for gossip. It would impress them more to hear that I was having an affair than to hear of a life saved.”

“Are you having an affair?” Will asked with mock interest, raising his eyebrow salaciously.

“Not yet,” Hannibal winked. “We can see where the night takes us, however. Forgive me, but I must check on dinner. We’re about to start. Please, have a seat to the left of my own. I’d enjoy your company, Will.”

Will’s mouth flapped uselessly while a hot blush stained his cheeks. He watched Hannibal saunter away, and he swigged his wine. Not yet? We’ll see where the night takes us? He fucking winked, and Will had no idea what that even meant.

Dinner was announced, and everyone made their way to the dining room. Will sat in the chair to the left of Hannibal’s, and they exchanged a long look before Hannibal raised his glass to his company. Alana was placed at the head of the table opposite Hannibal, and her face alone showed that she was far less than pleased with that arrangement.

He had a sneaking suspicion that he’d taken her seat. The guilt he should feel about that was suspiciously absent.

The table was absolutely covered in unbelievable looking food, and everyone was clapping. Actually freaking clapping.

“Before we begin,” Hannibal announced, raising a hand to quiet the room. “You must all be warned: Nothing here is vegetarian.” There was a small murmur of demure laughter, and Hannibal grinned. “Bon Appetit!”

Hannibal took his seat, and the feast began.

Endless courses were placed in front of Will, each one more delicious than the last. Will stayed mostly quiet while people talked around him. Mrs. Komeda spoke to him a few times, only polite conversation. Not enough for Will to become invested.

Hannibal was talking about his herb garden wall, discussing irrigation and the various imported herbs he had when Will noticed them.

His cufflinks.

The bite of pate stuck in his throat while he tried to better see the tiny square of gold on Hannibal’s cuff. It couldn’t be. There was no way…

Will chanced a glance at Hannibal’s face and blushed vibrant red as Hannibal squirmed a bit in his seat.

There was no fucking way.

Hannibal had placed his wrist by Will’s setting, holding his butter knife aloft as he discussed the differences between French and Italian thyme, and Will gawked. There. Printed on the cufflink in bold, uppercase letters: LELO.

If he was wearing the cufflinks, could he be wearing…

Will’s eyes drifted over Hannibal’s waist, down to the visible portion of his ass in the chair. Would he wear… the complimentary plug that went with them?

To a fancy fucking dinner party?

There was no. Fucking. Way.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Will?” Hannibal said, snapping Will back to attention.

Will startled, glancing up at Hannibal while having no goddamn idea what he’d been talking about. “Uh,” he stammered. “Yeah. So true.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows drew together, a soft pinch on his mouth. He shifted in his seat, and Will averted his eyes back to his food. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course,” Will said brightly, allowing his eyes to drift to the subtle movements that Hannibal was making in his chair. His own cock twitched at the thought alone of what Hannibal may or may not have in his ass right now, and he took a gulp of his wine. “Just… lost in thought. Forgive me.”

“I was just saying that it’s not good to bottle up one’s emotions,” Mrs. Komeda said, clearing repeating her argument from a conversation that Will did not hear. “I say what I want, and I express how I feel, regardless of offense.”

“And I agree to disagree,” Hannibal smiled, shifting again in his seat. “Sometimes putting a plug in it is the most agreeable course of action. It’s unnecessary to share your every waking thought with the people around you. I know you’d agree with that, isn’t that right, Will?”

Will gawked at him. Put a plug in it? Was he seriously making butt plug jokes while he sat with his pretentious friends? All while having a three-thousand-dollar golden plug in his ass? Did Will even know this man at all? “I… uh,” he shifted in his seat while his cock fought to work its way to attention, all while blushing madly. “I’m on the fence, honestly. I never censor myself when I’m speaking, and I also never… share more than I deem necessary. It might be rude, but I’ll be damned if I censor myself for the convenience of others.”

“Well put,” Mrs. Komeda praised him, raising her glass to him with a vibrant smile on her face. “You need to loosen up, Hannibal. Take a cue from this young man and live a little.”

Hannibal shifted in his seat, and Will swallowed thickly when he noticed the deepening flush on Hannibal’s cheeks. “I assure you,” he sighed, closing his eyes as he sipped his wine. “I live my life to the absolute fullest.” He let out the breathiest little moan after his sip of wine was swallowed. It was barely a noise at all, considering the commotion of dinner conversation and silverware scraping against plates, but Will still heard it.

No one else seemed to notice at all. Hannibal was flushed in his chair and wiggling in his seat, whimpering, and no one else seemed to give a ripe shit. They ate and laughed demurely, sipping their expensive wines while resolutely ignoring their host, who may or may not be about to come at the dinner table.

Perhaps Will was hallucinating. That would be a more reasonable explanation for all of this than anything else. He sipped his wine while glancing cautiously back to Hannibal’s cufflinks.

LELO.

Nope. Still hallucinating.

Wait staff breezed around them, replacing plates with new courses. Will had no idea what the hell he was eating, as his brain was stuck in the mud at the thought of Hannibal stimulating his own prostate at his dinner party.

Will’s head throbbed, and he set his wine glass down in exchange for his glass of water. His hand fumbled for his pants pocket, and he winced as he realized that he didn’t have his bottle of aspirin with him. He touched Hannibal’s arm, even though getting his attention at this specific moment was the last thing he wanted to do. “Do you, uh, have aspirin? Advil?”

Hannibal nodded, standing from his dining chair. “Excuse us for just a moment. Will, please,” he said while gesturing that Will should follow him with his hand.

All eyes flicked to them as they left the table, and Will had no fucking idea why he had to go get pain medicine with Hannibal. He followed him upstairs and into his bedroom. Will swallowed thickly, glancing around the room as they made their way towards the master bath.

Hannibal rummaged through his medicine cabinet, plucking a few bottles out. “Are you still having headaches?”

“Yeah,” Will admitted awkwardly. His eyes traveled the length of Hannibal’s back as he reached up for a bottle on the top shelf, settling on the plump swell of his ass. He was an attractive man. Will… didn’t notice men, really. But he noticed Hannibal. He was… noticeable.

As was his ass, that had Schrodinger’s Plug in it.

Hannibal turned to him and Will jerked his eyes away, lifting them so they met the hazel-amber of Hannibal’s own. “I’d like to do something… perhaps unorthodox. If you’ll permit me?”

Will raised his eyebrow, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. Hannibal was looking at him expectantly, and he nodded. “Sure.”

With permission granted, Hannibal stepped into his space. Long fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck, and Will stiffened. “Doctor Lecter, what are you doing?”

“Shh,” he scolded mildly. His nose brushed against the curls at Will’s temple, and all Will could smell was his cologne and the wine on his breath. His nose worked softly against the skin of his forehead, scenting him down to the skin just under his ear. Will’s cock twitched again, and he fought the desire to clutch him closer.

Drag his mouth down for a kiss. Maybe find out if he had a golden plug in his ass after all.

Hannibal pulled away, grimacing down at Will with a concerned expression. “Have you had trouble sleeping? Hallucinations?”

“You know I have,” Will replied, leaning away a bit as Hannibal hadn’t stepped out of his personal space just yet.

“You smell… sick, Will,” he said slowly. “I have a very sensitive sense of smell. There’s a… sweetness to your scent. I think it may very well be encephalitis.”

“You’re joking,” Will retorted. “You can smell it?”

“I am not joking,” Hannibal assured him, resting a comforting palm against Will’s shoulder. “And I promise you that I can in fact smell it. You’ve been drinking tonight, which very likely initiated the symptoms. Taking anything like this will not help you.”

“Should I go to the hospital, then?” Will asked. His head ached to the point where his vision ebbed, so he leaned back against Hannibal’s bathroom counter.

“I’m going to speak with Alana,” Hannibal said with a small nod. “Ask her to take your dogs tonight. I’ll go downstairs and ask everyone to leave and then we can-”

“No,” Will blurted while rubbing at his temple. “You… you can talk to Alana, but… please. Have your dinner party. I can wait until it’s over, Hannibal. I’ve waited all this time.”

Hannibal tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, staring intensely for a moment. “You could have a seizure. Any number of things may happen, Will.”

“If I have a seizure then that’ll end your dinner party and you can do whatever you want,” Will replied with a humorless chuckle. “Just… let’s go back downstairs and wait, okay? Please?”

Hannibal nodded once, then glanced down to smooth his own flawless button down. “I’ll meet you downstairs, then. I need to use the facilities, then I’ll rejoin you.”

Will glanced down the line of his body again, wondering if Hannibal was about to… remove the device from himself. God, he was sicker than he thought. He gave a curt nod, then stepped out from the bathroom.

He headed back downstairs slowly, holding the railing for dear life because his head was absolutely pounding. Alana watched him curiously from the corner of her eye, distracted from her conversation with the man next to her.

“Is everything alright?” Mrs. Komeda asked once he sat back down at the dinner table.

“Yes,” he replied with a polite smile. “Red wine gives me a headache sometimes. Hannibal was kind enough to get me some aspirin.”

She might be pretentious, but her smile was warm when she responded. “That’s why I stick solely to white,” she said conspiratorially.

Will winked at her, raising his glass of water in mock salute.

When Hannibal came back downstairs, he called Alana away to the study. They were gone for several minutes before they came back, Alana looking worriedly at him while Hannibal sat by Will’s side. Conversation resumed, and Will chanced a glance back to his cufflinks.

Golden circles. No print on them.

He swallowed thickly while a bead of sweat worked from his temple. Why would he fucking hallucinate Hannibal wearing a high-end butt plug brand? What the hell was wrong with his brain?

“I spoke with Alana,” Hannibal murmured while touching Will’s hand briefly. “She’ll be taking your dogs after the party.”

“You told her that you think I have…?” he asked softly.

He shook his head. “I told her that your headaches are getting worse, and that I’d like to take you in for some tests just to be safe,” he explained. “She would call an ambulance immediately if she knew what I suspected.”

He blanched at the thought. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Dinner conversation resumed, but Will had no idea what was being said around him. His headache was causing nausea, and he struggled to even keep his eyes open. The night came to a close an hour or so later when Hannibal announced that there would be no cocktail hour following dinner this time.

Alana lingered once everyone was gone, coming to Will’s side to touch his arm. “You look horrible, Will,” she worried. “It’s good you decided to stay tonight, I think.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Thank you for watching my dogs tonight.”

“Please,” Alana said dismissively. “They’re good dogs. I don’t mind, Will. Please have Hannibal call me when they get some results. If you don’t mind me knowing, of course.”

His head pounded miserably, and he nodded. “He’ll call you.”

Hannibal escaped back upstairs once everyone was gone, leaving Will downstairs with the staff he’d hired to clean up the place. They worked around him like a whirlwind, washing plates and wiping down tables. There was endless noise coming from the kitchen, dishes being washed and put away and food being tucked away in the refrigerator.

Will sat in the foyer, resting his head against the wall while he waited for Hannibal to come back.

He came back downstairs with a shoulder bag, redressed in a casual looking red cable-knit sweater and soft gray slacks. The wait staff were just finishing up, so he ushered them out with Will in tow, heading to his Bentley where he opened the car door for Will.

The rest of his night was completely horrible. He had countless tests and bloodwork done, and then they performed a spinal tap. It was the single worst thing he’d ever had done to him, and his lower back was so sore he had to lay on the hospital bed on his side.

Hannibal stayed with him through all of it. He held Will’s hand through the spinal tap, allowing Will to cry and grip his palm tightly in his sweaty hand. He was there when Hannibal’s friend, Doctor Sutcliff, performed an MRI to get a better look at his brain.

They seemed to run out of tests after his spinal tap, and he waited in his room for his results. Hannibal sat resolutely by his side, his eyes drifting over Will occasionally. “You can go home, Hannibal,” Will said softly.

Amber eyes shifted back to him, and he shook his head. “I’m perfectly content right where I am,” he said stubbornly. “I brought you a bag of my things,” he said, lifting the bag from the floor. “Pajama pants, a few tee shirts. There’s a decent bar of soap and a few toiletries as well. They’ll suffice until I can get to your house to get your own things.”

Will swallowed thickly, reaching his hand out, then winced. He had an IV in his right hand, so he reached out with his left instead. Hannibal took his fingers in his, inching his plastic chair closer to Will’s bed. “How long will my back hurt?”

“For a few hours,” Hannibal said softly while stroking the back of Will’s hand with his thumb. “I suspect you have a case of viral encephalitis, possibly from a tick or a mosquito bite. You do spend a great deal of time outdoors with your dogs.”

“What’s the treatment for that?” Will asked. Their conversation was distracting him from his pain and the anxiety that he generally felt in hospitals, and he was silently grateful for Hannibal.

“Antiviral therapy through IV,” Hannibal recalled, his eyes drifting up to rest on Will’s own. “Fluids. Steroids and anti-inflammatories. It’s an effective therapy regimen, but it takes time. A few weeks in the hospital, then another few weeks or so of recovery at home.”

“Fuck,” Will sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. A tear escaped his eye, and Hannibal wrapped both of his hands around Will’s and pressed it to his chest.

“I know you don’t care for hospitals,” Hannibal said softly. “I’ll be here for you, Will.”

His test results didn’t come in that night, but instead late in the morning the next day. Hannibal was still sitting by his side, now with a cup of stale coffee clutched between his long fingers. Doctor Sutcliff came in and explained that he had viral encephalitis, possibly from a tick or a mosquito, and Will glanced at Hannibal with a little smile on his face.

Gentle fingers gripped his hand again, and Will squeezed them back while listening to the doctor go over their treatment plan.

Chapter Text

Hannibal left sometimes that afternoon to head home for a shower, but Will didn’t really notice. They had started his treatment immediately, and it wiped him out. He slept most of the time for the next few days. He’d awake for a brief few minutes, casually noting Alana or Jack by his bed. Mostly Hannibal, though.

Hannibal was there endlessly. Will wanted to tell him that he could go. Live his life. Do something other than sit with him while he was unconscious, but he couldn’t get his mouth to move to say so.

Instead, he’d grip Hannibal’s fingers weakly when they held his hand.

The next five days went very similarly before he woke up one afternoon and felt much more awake. His head wasn’t throbbing, and his eyelids weren’t weighted down. He was alone this time, and Will felt marginally thankful for that.

He was well enough that a nurse helped him to the bathroom after removing his catheter, and he washed up in the sink until he felt somewhat human afterwards.

His nurse helped him back to bed, but not before he changed into a pair of soft pajama pants that Hannibal had brought him. There was now a bag from his own house, and Will tried not to think about it too much as he still chose Hannibal’s clothes to change into. They smelled of Hannibal and his home, and the soft fabrics combined with their scent soothed his nerves.

Hannibal came sometimes after seven with a warming tote, glancing at Will with a gentle smile on his face. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed ruefully, shifting up in the bed to a sitting position. Hannibal helped him raise the back of the bed, and Will chuckled. “You didn’t have to spend so much time here, you know.”

“Were you aware that I was here?” Hannibal asked in surprise while unpacking a bag of glass Tupperware.

“Vaguely,” he admitted. “What’s all this?”

“I brought dinner,” he said with a wide smile, all sharp teeth and crinkled eyes. “I’ve brought dinner for the last two days, as I knew you’d be awake at some point. Nutrition is important at this stage of recovery, and I wanted you to have something better than whatever they’d try to feed you.”

He set out the glass bowl of soup with a cloth napkin and spotless silverware, pouring out a serving of what looked like green tea. “Silkie chicken in broth,” Hannibal announced as though he were at a dinner party. “A black-boned bird prized in China for its medicinal value since the seventh century. With red dates, ginseng, wolfberries, and star anise.”

Will stared up at him, incredulous. He smiled hesitantly while picking up his spoon. “You made me chicken soup?”

Hannibal paused while packing up his dirty Tupperware, flicking an exasperated look at him. “Yes,” he agreed reluctantly.

Will beamed at him, and the tight expression on Hannibal’s face melted a bit. “Thank you.”

The soup was delicious, because of course it was. He ate it slowly though, because his head still made him dizzy sometimes. The dizziness sometimes caused nausea, and he really didn’t want to throw up in front of Hannibal.

He ate most of it, and Hannibal sat silently by his side, watching Will eat with a warm, gentle, expression on his face. “How mad was Jack when you told him I’d be out of commission for a while?”

“He asked if he might still be able to come here with case files,” he admitted with a twist of his lips. “I told him that would be quite selfish, as you are very sick and will need likely a month to recover.”

“Are my dogs okay?” Will asked softly after setting his spoon down to rest back against the bed.

“Alana is taking very good care of them,” Hannibal assured him while packing away Will’s dirty dishes. “Winston seems to be taking your absence the hardest. He keeps escaping to go back to your home.”

Will’s heart panged at that, and his eyes filled with unwarranted tears. Will fought off the urge to cry, as he had no idea why he was even so upset. Hannibal set his tote aside, moving his chair close by Will’s bed to grip his fingers between his own. “If you could find the silver lining here,” Hannibal said softly while rubbing the back of Will’s hand with his fingers. “You aren’t crazy, Will. You were sick, and we know what’s wrong. You’re being treated, and afterwards you’ll be healthy and strong again. No more hallucinations. No more lost time. The situation may be quite dismal for now, but it’s temporary.”

Will nodded, squeezing Hannibal’s fingers and dragging them up to rest against his chest. “What the hell would I do without you?” he said with a sniffly laugh. “Thank you, Hannibal.”

The hand that wasn’t clasped to Will’s chest reached up, stroking against the side of Will’s cheek. Hannibal’s expression was fond, his eyes warm and glittering. “There’s no need to thank me,” he said softly. “I often wonder what I would do without you, as well. Let’s hope we never have to find out.”

Soft fingers stroked through his hair, and Will tipped his face into his palm, encouraging him to continue. “May I come in?” a voice called hesitantly from the doorway.

Hannibal took his fingers from Will’s hair, but Will gripped his other hand so it stayed encased in his own. “Please,” Hannibal said by way of invitation.

Alana came in awkwardly, glancing between them with a cautious expression on her face. “Hi,” Will said with a little smile.

“You scared us,” she said softly, coming to the side of Will’s bed. Her eyes drifted over to where they were touching, and she glanced away from it deliberately. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” he admitted. “Thank you for taking care of my dogs.”

“It’s nothing, Will,” she said with a warm smile. “They miss you, but they’ve been good.”

“I miss them, too,” Will admitted shyly.

She shifted her feet, staring uncomfortably at where he and Hannibal were touching. “I felt a bit like I was intruding when I came in,” she said, and the look she gave Hannibal could have melted a glacier.

“You weren’t,” Hannibal assured her while squeezing Will’s fingers. “I was just about to head home, in fact.”

Will squeezed his hand, biting his lip to keep from protesting. Hannibal had been here every day since he’d been admitted, and he wouldn’t beg him for more of his time. “Thank you for dinner, and for… being here.”

Hannibal raised Will’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Will’s heart panged from the contact. “It’s good to have you back,” he said softly. “You’ve been missed, Will.”

“You can skip a few days, you know,” Will said, tipping his head back against his pillow so he could maintain eye contact with Hannibal now that he was standing. “Live a little.”

“I always live life to the fullest,” he said, repeating his line to Mrs. Komeda from that night. It felt like years ago at this point. “And I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean that you need to suffer here, too,” Will said softly, still gripping Hannibal’s fingers against his chest.

“In your company, dear Will, I am never suffering,” he replied. “No matter our location. Refuse the swill they bring you for dinner. I’m making us both dinner tomorrow. We’ll dine together.”

“On my plastic hospital table,” Will mused with a laugh.

“We’ll make do,” he grinned. “Rest, Will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will let his hand go reluctantly, nodding his head. “Goodnight, Hannibal.”

Will watched him leave, and Alana shifted on her feet. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

She followed Hannibal out, and he strained to hear their conversation a few feet from his door. She was giving him shit, there was no doubt about it, but he couldn’t hear it well enough to know why.

A few minutes ticked by before she returned, her cheeks flushed, and her mouth set in a firm line. She did her best to relax her features as she took Hannibal’s chair by his bed, but he could still tell that she was… upset. “Hannibal told me that Winston keeps going back to my house,” he said, trying to dissipate the tension in the room.

“You call him Hannibal now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Will shrugged. “He’s a friend.”

“He’s your therapist,” she replied softly while reaching for the hand that Hannibal had just held. He fought the urge to take his hand away from her, choosing instead to allow her this attention. “I know that in times like this the line can blur, but he is still your therapist.”

“Never officially,” Will retorted. “Alana, I don’t have the energy to fight with you. All I’m going to say is that you’d better not warn him away from me. I want him here. Especially if he wants to be here, too. He’s my friend. The only one I have, and I’m not going to let anyone push him away. Got it?”

She winced at the tone he used, releasing a long sigh from her lips. “I doubt even a restraining order would keep him away,” she said with a teasing smile. “I just tried to tell him how unethical this is, and he basically told me the same thing that you just did. I’m sorry, Will. I’m just… protective of you.”

“Can’t have too many people in your corner, I guess,” Will conceded. “I appreciate your concern, but please. Hannibal is on my side. He’s always been on my side.”

“I won’t say anything again,” she promised. Will could tell that she really wanted to argue the point more, but the fact that he probably looked exhausted stopped her from continuing. “It’s nice to see you awake.”

“Don’t know how much longer I will be,” Will chuckled. The warm soup in his belly made him feel tired, and he felt his eyelids drooping. “But it’s nice to lose the catheter.”

She wrinkled her nose while letting go of Will’s lax hand in her own. “I guess it would be.”

She stayed for a few more minutes while Will fought off sleep. He was out before she left the room.

The following week went much the same, except now he was able to take short showers each morning. He had to stay admitted while he was being treated with antiviral therapy, and it was annoying because he was feeling much better. His days were filled with tests and bloodwork, nothing to occupy his time aside from the frequent poking and prodding done by the hospital staff. He knew they were trying to help, but after two weeks, Will had just about had it.

The only reprieve he had in his day was Hannibal. He showed up every night with a warming tote, bringing dinner and conversation that Will was more thankful for than anything else in the world. He was a ray of sunshine in a proverbial deluge of misery, and Will… Will was having feelings.

Hannibal touched him more. He held Will’s hand and swept curls from his forehead. One night, he even dabbed Will’s mouth with a napkin. The both of them seemed stunned by the action, each blushing and smirking before resuming their meal together.

His body was working again, and his dick was becoming a fucking nuisance.

He’d honestly forgotten what it was like to wake up with an erection. Or… to get an erection at all. It had been months, and he knew it was because his body had been fighting off a massive infection. The closest he got to getting one in recent memory was when he hallucinated that Hannibal was hosting a dinner party with a butt plug in his ass.

Strangely enough, it was the thing that was causing his erections now, as well.

He checked Hannibal’s cufflinks each time he held Will’s hand, and they were always tasteful. Little gold circles, opals, sapphires, or diamonds. Never once were they gold squares with LELO printed on them.

It had definitely been a hallucination, but he didn’t know why his brain pulled up that specific thing. He had no idea what made him recall a case he’d worked on over a decade before, when he was only a beat cop in New Orleans.

He especially didn’t understand why his dreams were plagued with vivid images of himself sliding a golden plug from Hannibal’s clenching hole. In his dreams, he replaced that golden, curved, plug with his cock, and he always woke up either aching or sticky.

It was frankly fucking embarrassing, because there was always a nurse or doctor somewhere nearby. Being woken up for bloodwork at five in the morning while sporting the biggest erection in Baltimore history made Will want to hurl himself from the window.

He wanted to go home, where he could have a sexual identity crisis in peace.

His dreams evolved with each visit that Hannibal paid him. Ones where the butt plug didn’t star in the show. He dreamed that when Hannibal stepped into his space that night in his master bathroom, it wasn’t to sniff out disease, but instead to press his lips against Will’s own.

Their kiss was nebulous, as Will had no idea how Hannibal kissed or what his lips felt like. His imagination filled in the details for him with startling clarity, and his cock was definitely making up for lost time.

A few more days passed before his doctor came in and told him they’d be discharging him. His MRI was clear, and his bloodwork was perfect. Hannibal arrived just as the doctor was going over things to watch out for while he finished recovering at home, and Hannibal paid attention as though he were the one with the encephalitis.

He’d need to rest for another two weeks, and Will winced at that. Jack would have a fucking bird, and he knew already that his patience was running thin. The few times he visited Will in the hospital were not merely friendly visits. He spoke of cases that were piling up and remained unsolved, glancing at Will almost judgmentally while he laid in the hospital bed.

Hannibal drove him home once he was discharged, and Will sighed. “Jack’s not going to let me loaf around in my house for two weeks.”

“He has no choice,” Hannibal replied, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “You need your rest. Your immune system needs time to recover, and your brain is healing from a traumatic illness. If you push yourself too soon, you’ll end up right back under Doctor Sutcliff’s care. I imagine you wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“No,” Will agreed with another sigh. “I would not.”

“I’ve asked Alana to return your dogs to you tomorrow evening,” he admitted carefully. Will’s hackles were rising, and Hannibal raised a placating palm. “I know you miss them, but believe me. You’ll be very tired tonight from the activity of your day. Take care of yourself today, and you can take care of your pack tomorrow.”

“I can’t even drive for the next week,” Will groaned. “I don’t have groceries, and I imagine that the things that were in my fridge aren’t good anymore. This… sucks.”

Hannibal chuckled, and one hand left the steering wheel to search out Will’s own. Will laced their fingers together, and it felt decidedly different than it did when he was laid out in a hospital bed. Different, but very much welcomed.

“Do you believe for a single moment that I would bring you to your home with not a thing to eat?” he asked with a teasing smile. “Will, you insult me.”

He didn’t ask what that meant, but he assumed that Hannibal had made them something for dinner tonight. Will squeezed his fingers gratefully, and Hannibal’s smile deepened in response.

His house was suspiciously spotless when they walked inside of it. It was cold, so Hannibal got the electric heaters going and closed off doors to rooms that weren’t used.

It took a few minutes before the room began to feel warm enough to take off their coats, and Will glanced around at his fur-free space. “Did you clean?”

Hannibal nodded while gesturing for Will to follow him into the kitchen. “I didn’t want you to come home to a mess,” he admitted. He opened the freezer door, and Will’s jaw hung open. There were rows and rows of frozen meals in little glass containers, stacked neatly to the top of his freezer. “There’s a post-it note on each container for reheating instructions,” Hannibal explained while Will gawked. “Please follow them. It will come out perfectly each time if you do.”

He opened Will’s refrigerator that was not only spotless, but also stuffed with fresh groceries. “For breakfast, try to work in some leafy greens in some way. The vitamins will help in your recovery. I brought you spinach and kale. A light sauté with some eggs would be perfect for you.”

“Hannibal,” Will breathed, swallowing tightly. “You’ve done too much. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Hannibal assured him while placing a soothing palm against the small of his back. “I’ve also taken the initiative to write down your medication schedule. Weaning off steroids is problematic, so I’ve written down precise times for each of your medications. It’s very important that you stick to the schedule.”

Will glanced down at his counter, reading over the detailed instructions that were written in flawless script. He felt… grateful. So fucking grateful. Without thought, he stepped into Hannibal’s space and tugged him against his body.

The hug was awkward. Hannibal didn’t seem to expect it, and he didn’t have any idea what to do with his arms. They came around Will’s shoulders hesitantly, and Will felt him take a gentle inhale against his temple. “What do I smell like now?” Will asked, holding Hannibal close so he could drown in the scent and heat of him.

Hannibal huffed a breath of laughter against the side of his face. “The hospital mostly,” he admitted. “Under that, the soap I’ve given you, and the mint of your shampoo.”

“I love that bar soap,” Will chuckled, reluctantly letting Hannibal go to step away. “It smells good.”

Hannibal’s mouth lifted in a grin while he moved away to arrange Will’s medications on the counter. “It certainly does.”

After making them an easy dinner of roasted chicken thighs with sauteed spinach, Hannibal left him for the evening. It was… strange being home without his dogs. He was tired enough though that Hannibal’s suggestion to allow Alana to keep them for one extra night was appreciated.

Will took a long shower that night, soaping himself up leisurely with the bar soap that Hannibal had given him. It smelled faintly of him, mint and citrus that Will could sometimes get a whiff of even under his spicy aftershave. His mind drifted off to the fucking butt plug again, and his cock stiffened while he washed up.

It might’ve been a hallucination, but it still somehow managed to be the instigator in every erection he’d sported since he started recovering. He thought of the way Hannibal shifted in his seat, possibly rocking the object against his prostate while Will sat to his side with twenty other people in the room.

He thought of the pink flush on Hannibal’s cheeks, which was likely caused by wine and not a golden butt plug. His fist gripped his cock as he recalled the way Hannibal closed his eyes while sipping his wine. The soft little sigh of pleasure the escaped his reddened mouth.

He imagined that instead of wine or food causing it, that it was he himself bringing Hannibal that kind of pleasure.

He hissed a breath while his cock jerked in his hand, imagining Hannibal arching his back the way he did when he reached for the top shelf of his medicine cabinet. The curve of his spine as well as the plush firmness of his ass.

He imagined spreading those cheeks with his thumbs, and a hot stab of pleasure rocked through him at the thought of finding a golden handle wedged deep between them. He’d torture him a bit, he knew. Take the handle and tug it gently. Rock it back and forth so it pressed harder against that little pleasure center inside of him. He tried to imagine the noises that Hannibal would make.

Would he be silent? Mostly breathy little noises that didn’t carry the gravelly timber of his voice in them?

He jerked his cock harder, curling his toes against the tub.

Or would he make sounds? Guttural little moans that sounded like ground glass? Maybe a desperate little sigh with Will’s name rolling from his lips. That, he could imagine. Hannibal used his name so frequently that he practically heard it in the room with him. “Will,” he’d breathe, his eyes closing while a wrecked noise was pulled from his reddened mouth.

“Hannibal,” Will moaned. His cock jerked and pulsed in his hand, and he continued milking himself while picturing the warmth of the metal object in his hand. The way Hannibal’s ass would constrict around it, tugging it back against his rim.

He came so hard that he saw stars. His head throbbed, and Will shivered while watching his come swirl down the drain.

Reality settled in while he shut off the water. He’d just jerked off to his friend. His only friend in the entire world. A man that had helped him in ways that Will wasn’t even certain he could list in their entirety.

All because he hallucinated while at a dinner party.

Shame crept in, and Will slunk to bed after changing into clean pajama pants and a tee shirt. His bedsheets were clean, and there were extra blankets piled high on the mattress.

Hannibal must have washed his sheets and made his bed, too.

The guilt compounded.

He had to stop this. What if he lost the only friend he’d ever really had, all because his freshly working cock was interested in the unknown? He wouldn’t let that happen, no matter how tempting it might be.

His blankets felt heavy and warm, and Will reached his hand between them to try and figure out why they felt differently than they usually did. Between his clean sheets and his old blanket was a new one.

It was heavy and soft. A deep grey-blue that Will didn’t recognize. It was clearly expensive and well made, and Will knew without a doubt that Hannibal had bought it for him. He smiled to himself while settling out in his warm bed before clicking off his lamp.

Sleep eventually came for him, his fingers curled into the soft fabric of his new blanket.

Chapter Text

He slept like the dead. He’d honestly forgotten how well he slept when he wasn’t having night terrors and full-body night sweats. He woke up late the next morning, blinking blearily against his pillow. He was warm and comfortable, peacefully groggy from a blissful night of perfect sleep.

He glanced at the clock, noting that he needed to get up and take his medications.

Alana would be bringing his dogs back to him in a few hours, so he climbed from the bed and straightened out the blankets.

He read through his medication instructions, taking them exactly as Hannibal had written down. His beard was growing very mangey, so he trimmed it down before taking a shower. As he got dressed in a comfortable pair of gray slacks and a soft blue Henley, he noticed his reflection for the first time. He looked… good. The dark circles that had been prominent under his eyes for months were mostly gone. His skin was clear and rosy, a gleam of health to his face that he hadn’t even realized was missing. With his beard trimmed and his hair parted and brushed, he looked… healthy. Healthy and happy.

He was not crazy. He had been sick, but now… now he was better.

If Alana was bringing his dogs back, he’d need to make them a pan of dog food. He rummaged through his fridge to see if he had anything that he could use to make one, but there was nothing. He had perfectly portioned frozen meals for the foreseeable week, and enough fresh vegetables to keep a horse happy for a few days, but no raw chicken he could use. He sighed, debating if he should take a drive to the nearest grocery store.

He shouldn’t. He debated calling Alana to ask if she’d mind stopping for a few things when he heard the crunch of gravel under tires outside.

He smiled widely, going to the door. His dogs. Jesus, he’d missed them.

It wasn’t his dogs, but his smile didn’t dissipate. Hannibal stood on the other side of the door, his arms full of grocery bags with his fist raised to knock. His mouth fell open as he took Will in, sliding his eyes from Will’s own, down to his mouth, then back up again. “You seem extraordinarily pleased to see me.”

Will stepped aside so he could come into the house, and he laughed. “I thought you were my dogs, but… I’m not less happy because it’s you. What’s all this?”

Hannibal stepped into the house, moving swiftly towards the kitchen with his canvas grocery bags. “Alana informed me last night that you prefer to feed your dogs homemade dog food. I wasn’t aware of that, so I brought you some ingredients to do so.”

Will smiled, coming into the kitchen to rummage through the bag. There was a whole chicken, sweet potatoes, brown rice, and fresh peas. It was… more than he usually used to make their food, but they’d eat it, he was sure. “You didn’t have to do this. Thank you, Hannibal.”

“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively. His eyes trailed over Will from head to toe, assessing. “You look very well, Will.”

“I feel good,” he admitted, flicking his eyes up to meet Hannibal’s. He was standing close enough that his jacket brushed Will’s elbow, his eyes sliding over Will’s face slowly. “You didn’t need to cancel appointments to come here for this.”

Hannibal pursed his lips. “It’s Friday.”

“You don’t see patients on Friday?” Will asked, and Hannibal shook his head. A gentle hand came up to cup the side of his face, Hannibal’s thumb sweeping under his eye where there used to be dark circles. Will blushed under the attention but didn’t pull away. “You only work four days a week?”

“Perhaps the only perk in my profession is my ability to set my own schedule,” he grinned. “You truly look differently. I’m beginning to suspect you weren’t well since we’ve met.”

“I’ve had night sweats and night terrors for… at least six months. Possibly longer,” he admitted. Hannibal stepped away to unpack the groceries, and Will regained his bearings. “I slept very well last night.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hannibal said while digging through Will’s cabinets. “Do you use this pan?” he asked, holding up his giant dog food pan.

Will nodded, “You don’t have to make it. I can do it, Hannibal.”

“I’ll just get the chicken boiling,” Hannibal said stubbornly. “You may finish the rest. What have you eaten today?” Will shifted his feet awkwardly, and Hannibal squinted at him. “You need to eat before your medications,” he admonished. “Tell me you at least took them.”

“I kind of just woke up. Maybe an hour ago.”

The disappointment in Hannibal’s face smoothed out, and he gave Will a quick nod. “You needed your rest. I’ll fix us both something for brunch.”

Will debated arguing about that but knew it wouldn’t be an argument he’d win. He settled out on the kitchen stool, watching Hannibal work in his small kitchen. “Has Jack bothered you about cases while I’ve been gone?”

Hannibal nodded while removing his coat and his blazer, setting both aside in his dining room. He rolled up the sleeves of his crimson button-down shirt before continuing cooking. “He asked me to consult on two cases,” Hannibal admitted. “One is solved, the other is not.”

“I’ve been considering ending my consultation agreement,” Will admitted softly. Hannibal paused in his task, glancing at Will in surprise. “I know I was sick, but… the things I saw definitely didn’t help me. I… I haven’t had night terrors since I’ve been in the hospital. My anxiety is pretty much gone. I don’t think it was… good for me.”

“I’ve been saying that from the beginning,” Hannibal replied, turning back to his task. “I think it’s a very good idea for you to let that part of your work go.”

Will hesitated, shifting on the stool uncomfortably. “My consultation agreement is the only reason the FBI pays for my sessions with you,” he said in a small voice. “I wouldn’t… see you anymore.”

Hannibal paused again, turning to Will with an expression he couldn’t read. “Do you think Uncle Jack is paying me to be here now?”

Will blushed, “No.”

“Do you think anyone paid me to visit you every night while you were in the hospital?” he continued. “Our friendship is not contingent on your continued therapy, Will. You’ll see me whether you resume your consultations or not. If anything, I think it would even out the dynamic between us. Any time we are in one another’s company, it would be because we chose to be. Don’t worry over losing me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Will swallowed thickly, averting his eyes off towards his dining room. “Good,” he managed.

“Was that truly something you worried over?” Hannibal asked, returning his attention to cooking.

“Yes,” Will replied honestly. “Yeah, it was.”

Hannibal didn’t reply verbally, but the small lift of his lips as he worked let Will know that he was pleased.

Hannibal made them spinach and feta omelets with a side of perfectly cooked sausage. They took their plates into Will’s small dining room where they sat side by side to eat. The food was perfect. It always was. “I want to do something for you,” Will said between bites, earning an interested glance from Hannibal. “Something nice.”

“Whatever for?” Hannibal asked, shifting in his chair to take in Will’s expression.

Will blushed while Hannibal’s gaze flicked over his profile, but he resolutely ignored it in favor of eating. “Because you’ve been a lifesaver this last month,” Will confessed. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. My brain would still be cooking in my head, first of all. Second, the hospital would have driven me nuts if I didn’t have you to look forward to every day. If you think of anything, just tell me. I’m pretty handy around the house if you need something fixed.”

Hannibal grinned, returning his attention towards his plate. “Knowing you are well and healthy is all the repayment I need,” he said softly. “However, I will hold you to that.”

They finished eating, and Will helped him clean up. The pan of chicken was done boiling, so Will took over cooking his dog food while Hannibal sat down on the kitchen stool to watch him work. “How long have you cooked for them?” Hannibal wondered.

“Since I was a teenager,” Will said while pulling the carcass from the pan. “I had a dog when I was a kid… Bijou. He was a terrier. The can of dog food I fed him one night was contaminated with something. I didn’t know, but… it killed him. It was horrible, and by the time we took him to the vet, my dad and I couldn’t afford the bill for them to help him. After that, I never fed my dogs anything from a can. I don’t eat canned food either, to be honest.”

“Does Alana do this for them when she watches them?” Hannibal asked.

“No,” Will replied with a chuckle. “It was a source of stress for me while I was in the hospital, but I can’t ask for anyone to do this. I know it’s… excessive.”

“I wish I’d have known,” Hannibal sighed. “I would have brought her food to feed them. Next time, Will. If there ever is a next time, I will take them.”

Will paused while cutting up sweet potatoes, glancing up at Hannibal in shock. “You’d take seven dogs into your spotless house?”

“If it would ease your worry, yes,” Hannibal smiled. “They’re good dogs. I don’t mind caring for them.”

“They’re mostly good dogs,” Will laughed. “Winston is the best behaved, but I can’t take credit for that. I haven’t had him a year, yet. Buster can be good, but he lapses now and again. He gets ‘Buster Vision’ sometimes, and whatever he’s focused on is all he wants in the world, no matter how much you call him away from it. Max is probably the worst of them. If he feels jealous over the attention I give to the others, he’ll spitefully piss on things in the house. He doesn’t do it often, but even once a year is enough for me. Eliie is my oldest, and she’s a very good dog. She’s an old lady though, so it’s very important to take her out frequently. I also put a joint supplement in her food because I know her hips hurt her sometimes. Especially when it’s cold.”

Will glanced up at Hannibal, noting the gentle smile on his face. He blushed while averting his eyes back towards the counter. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Hannibal chuckled. “Finish telling me about them, please. If I’m to care for them, then I should know a bit about them.”

The blush on his cheeks deepened, but he nodded. “Jack is very energetic. He likes to run, and he needs to be pooped out before bed. Tennis balls are your best bet, but he likes chew toys, too. Zoe has a bad underbite. It’s important to feed her with a towel or something under her food dish, as she kind of loses some of the food she’s eating sometimes. Harley is a lap dog. She doesn’t seem to get that she’s too big for it, but she’ll try anyway.”

“Are any of them on medications aside from Ellie for her joints?”

Will shook his head. “Aside from flea and tick medicine and heartworm meds once a month, they’re good.”

“I’ve never really heard you speak of them before this,” Hannibal mused. “You can talk to me about anything, Will. Especially your family.”

“You say that, but I don’t know anything about you,” Will teased. He glanced up while mashing the sweet potatoes into the rice, adding some broth to the pan to loosen it up. “You ever have pets?”

Hannibal nodded, surprising Will into stillness. “When I lived in Lithuania,” he said softly. “None were… house pets. We had cats for mice, dogs for our sheep, and a few horses for the fields around the manor. They all had a purpose.”

“You didn’t get attached to any of them?” Will wondered.

Hannibal was silent for a few minutes before he spoke. “I wouldn’t have,” he said slowly. “My sister, Mischa… she loved the sheep. Every spring we had to go out to the barn to visit the spring lambs. One spring, there was a snowball white lamb that was… smaller than usual. She was a sweet little thing that grew very attached to me and my sister. Her name was Lėlės. It means ‘doll’.”

“I… didn’t know you have a sister,” Will said cautiously. He could feel something like grief coming from the other man, and he didn’t want to push too much.

“Had,” Hannibal replied. “She passed when I was eleven. You remind me of her, in some ways. She loved animals with all her heart. She named all of them, and she knew what parts of the field certain sheep preferred. She used to sneak carrots and apples for the horses, and white bread for the sheep. Did you know that white bread is like candy for them?”

“I didn’t,” Will said, entirely distracted by the way Hannibal’s face smoothed out while he spoke of her. The way his entire demeanor changed while he thought of her.

“They couldn’t have very much, but… they came running when they heard the bag. She’d wake up early to go to them. She loved being the first person they saw in the morning.” Hannibal’s smile as he recalled her turned wistful. His eyes dropped down to the counter, and Will turned away to give him privacy.

“I’m sorry about your sister, Hannibal,” Will said softly.

“It was a very long time ago,” Hannibal replied, clearing his throat.

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds,” Will conceded. “I know that just as well as you do.”

Hannibal gifted Will with a gentle smile, and he turned to finish making his dog food.

Alana arrived with his happy pack of dogs sometimes after two, and Will jogged out of his house to greet them.

He was knocked into the snow in their excitement, and he laughed while ruffling their fur. “Hey guys!” he laughed while being mauled by a fur mob. Alana stood over him, but her eyes were lifted towards the porch with a pinched expression on her mouth.

He glanced to where she was looking, noting that Hannibal was watching him with his dogs. He’d never seen Hannibal like that; a wide, goofy, smile on his face, blatant adoration in every one of his features as he watched Will interact with his dogs. Their eyes met, and Hannibal’s eyes softened. “Thank you for watching them,” he said, turning back to Alana and wincing as Max licked a broad stripe up the side of his face.

“Anytime, Will,” she replied. Her eyes were still raised towards Hannibal, and he cleared his throat.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked. “I haven’t had a coffee yet, and I was just about to make a pot.”

She nodded, stuffing her hands deep into her coat pockets. “Sure.”

She followed him inside, his pack of dogs in tow, and Hannibal closed the door behind them. He continued petting his dogs for a few minutes, chuckling over their incredible enthusiasm. Jack was running in a tight circle by his feet, hopping so excitedly that Will briefly wondered if he’d pee in joy.

After they started wandering away on their own, he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “What are you doing here, Hannibal?” he heard her whisper bitterly.

“Visiting a friend,” he replied in his normal speaking voice.

“I spoke to you about this!” she said crossly. “Do you do this with your other patients?”

Will gritted his teeth while pouring water into the coffee maker, pressing the ‘on’ button with a sharp stab of his finger. He came around the corner to find her staring up at Hannibal with her arms crossed. “He doesn’t,” Will answered for him. Two sets of eyes turned to him in surprise, and Will crossed his own arms defensively. “Because I am not his patient.”

“You have sessions, Will,” she said in a placating tone. “There are ethical boundaries-”

“I won’t be having any more sessions with him,” he interjected. “Seeing as how I will not be consulting for the FBI anymore.”

“You’re quitting?” she asked in disbelief.

“Consulting, yes,” he agreed. “It’s not good for me and since I’ve stopped, I haven’t had a single night terror. I don’t have anxiety or night sweats anymore, either. It’s put some things into perspective for me, and… I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Her expression melted into relief, and she uncrossed her arms. “Well, if there is a silver lining here, I guess it’s that. Jack will try to talk you back into it.”

“I know,” Will nodded, glancing up at Hannibal’s prideful expression. “He won’t be able to, though.” The coffee pot beeped from the kitchen, and he sighed. “You want a coffee, Hannibal?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I must be heading home,” he said hesitantly. “I have prior dinner engagements.”

Something white-hot stabbed at Will’s gut, and he swallowed tightly. “A date?”

Hannibal reached down absently to pet Max, who was vying desperately for his attention. “A colleague,” he amended.

“Oh,” Will replied dumbly. The knot in his stomach untwisted, and he took a relieved breath. “Okay.”

Hannibal eased away from Max, who whined as he walked away. Hannibal stepped into his space, and all he could smell was the spicy scent of his cologne. Long fingers came up to cup his cheek, and Will pressed his face into his palm. “Max likes you,” he blurted out.

“I hope he doesn’t urinate on anything with my departure then,” he teased.

Will laughed, still watching Hannibal’s face as his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Have fun tonight,” he said softly.

The long fingers that were cupping his face slid down his neck briefly before pulling away. “I’d rather be here, Will,” he sighed. “Perhaps I can come tomorrow, if you’re feeling up for company.”

“Yours?” Will grinned. “Always.”

Hannibal’s smirk grew into a warm smile, and he nodded. “Till tomorrow, then. Your next dose is in fifteen minutes. Make sure to take them.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Yes doc,” he sighed.

“Alana,” Hannibal said politely while shrugging on his jacket. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” she said distractedly, her eyes flicking between them warily.

Will watched him leave his house, their eyes meeting briefly before Hannibal swept out the doorway. He could feel Alana’s eyes on him, so he turned to busy himself with their coffee mugs. “What the hell was that, Will?” she asked, though there was no venom in her voice.

He handed her cup off to her, pointedly avoiding eye contact while he pushed his sugar jar over to her. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” she pressed. “Are you… do you have… feelings for Hannibal?”

Will blushed, hiding it the best he could behind his coffee cup as he took a sip. “What would be the problem if I did?”

Her mouth flapped for a few seconds, and she sipped her coffee distractedly. “Are you… interested in men?”

Will snorted while moving away from the counter to get his meds. “Not until Hannibal,” he admitted.

Alana leaned back against his counter, sipping her coffee distractedly while he popped his next dose of meds into his mouth. “Are you aware of the phenomenon of transference in therapy?”

Will groaned, moving around the counter to head into his living room. He settled out in a chair, and she sat across from him in the other. It felt vaguely of therapy, and Will shifted in his seat. “It’s not transference,” he replied.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like that,” she agreed. Her voice took on a gentle cadence, one he somehow knew was the voice she used with her patients. “It feels real in the moment. A good way to identify it is to consider just what it is about Hannibal that you think you like. Transference is often one-sided. You like that he listens to you, right? You enjoy his company. You appreciate that he understands you. Are you seeing what I mean, Will?”

He nodded reluctantly, taking a small sip of his coffee. “It’s more than all of that, Alana.”

“In what way?” she asked patiently.

He’d need to tread very carefully, here. “I love the way he looks at me,” he said reluctantly. “I love his ridiculous suits and the fact that he doesn’t seem to know how to match a tie to them to save his life. I do love that he listens to me, and I love that he always seems to know exactly what I need, even if I don’t. I love when he talks about his childhood. I love that he trusts me enough to tell me things that he’s never told anyone. I love that I get to see the real him, while others see the plastic persona he hides behind because he doesn’t trust people just as much as I usually don’t. I love him, Alana.”

The truth of it knocked the wind out of him, and he was as stunned by his admission as Alana was. Her eyes were wide, her mouth parted in shock. He knew he must not look very different than she did at the moment, and he swallowed around a clot in his throat. “I love him.”

“He talks to you about his history?” she asked, licking her bottom lip in surprise. “He talks to you about himself?”

“I’ve told you before, we have… conversations. It’s not one-sided,” he assured her. “My feelings for him might be, though.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she breathed. She looked… shell-shocked, and Will felt the same way. “I’ve been friends with him for… Jesus, longer than eight years. We’ve talked into the early morning hours, occasionally. He’s never once told me of his childhood. I know nearly nothing about him aside from work, Will.”

Something knotted in his stomach again at her admission. “Were you intimate?” he blurted out through clenched teeth.

“No,” Alana said, smiling knowingly. “He was my mentor, and he was always a perfect gentleman. Even though I would have… been receptive to his advances if he would have initiated them. I’ve never seen him behave unprofessionally,” she sighed. “Until you.”

“Does it sound like transference?” he asked after a sip of his coffee.

“No,” she admitted after a sip of her own. “It sounds like love, Will. With how he looks at you, I wouldn’t assume it’s one-sided, either. I would still advise caution, though. If you’ve never had romantic inclinations towards a man before him, I would suggest… considering what that means. God, it feels strange asking you this, but… have you fantasized about him? Do you feel sexual attraction to him?”

Will blushed to his hairline, averting his eyes towards his dogs. “Yes,” he admitted in a soft breath. “Nothing about his anatomy has given me pause.”

He chanced a glance at her, noting the high color on her cheeks. “I’d suggest speaking to him, then.”

“In time,” he agreed. “I am perfectly content with where we are now.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have had a near-panic attack at the thought of him going on a date tonight,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed, shifting his coffee to his other hand so he could pet Winston who’d rested his head on his knee. “Got me there,” he agreed.

She smiled, sipping her coffee. Her posture relaxed, and Will felt… relieved. The tension between he and Alana had become exhausting, and it had somehow dissipated. “Jack’s not going to like… any of it.”

“Oh well,” Will laughed. “The day my life becomes about what Jack wants, I’ll worry about it.”

“I like you healthy,” she grinned. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen it.”

“Me neither,” he agreed with another laugh.

She smiled, reaching out to pet Max who’d come over in a jealous demand for attention because Winston was being pet and he wasn’t. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime, Alana,” he replied.

Chapter Text

He woke up on Saturday feeling refreshed again, and he served his dogs their breakfast before making his own. He had no idea what time Hannibal was planning to come by, but he wanted to be presentable when he came. He liked the way Hannibal looked at him when he was well put together, and he intended to get him to look at him like that again today.

He took his pills before his shower, taking extra care to arrange the curls on his head in a side-part that he thought complimented him the best. He opted to wear a comfortable forest green v-neck sweater with his well-worn, dark-wash, jeans. He didn’t have the nicest clothes, but he still thought he looked… nice.

He straightened up the house a bit, then took his dogs out for a small walk around the property. The small amount of activity wiped him out, and he called his dogs back into the house after barely a half-hour.

He heard Hannibal pull up just after one, and he set his book aside to greet him at the door. He pulled the door open before he could knock again, and Hannibal looked amused while his eyes traveled appreciatively over Will’s face. “Do you sit by the door and wait for me?” he teased.

“No,” he laughed. “I sit by the window and wait, like a legitimate stalker.”

He walked into the house, taking a small plastic bag from his pocket. Will watched while he broke off pieces of sausage, feeding each dog a few bites until the bag was empty.

“You’re spoiling them,” Will admonished mildly, settling out in his chair again.

“What’s life without a bit of pleasure,” he mused. Will blushed at that, watching while Hannibal removed his coat and hung it by the door. There was no suit today. He was wearing a fitted black sweater that looked like it was being asked to contain far more than it was ever meant to. He looked poured into it. If the sweater were a person, it would be an exhausted wraith, gasping, Please, help me.

It fit like a dream. The kind of dream that had Will waking up sweaty and ashamed as of late.

He was shaped like a Dorito. A tiny little waist that broadened to wide shoulders. His biceps stood out appealingly, and Will licked his lips at the bulge of pectoral muscle that flexed as he smoothed his sweater down against his abdomen. His slacks were fitted, following the lovely swell of his ass before tapering out to follow the line of his strong thighs. His legs went on for miles, and Will wanted to know what they looked like without fabric covering them.

His slacks were fitted enough that Will could see the gentlest hint of his cock in them, and he felt his own cock twitch at the very thought. His mouth watered, and he swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth. He was practically drooling, and it was frankly embarrassing.

His eyes flicked up, and his blush deepened as he realized that Hannibal was… aware of his regard. His eyes were smoldering, a gentle quirk to the set of his mouth while he stood there allowing Will to gawk at him. “I like your sweater,” he said stupidly.

“Do you,” he replied drolly. “Do you like my slacks as well?”

Will considered denying it. He considered it, until he noticed the way Hannibal was appreciating him, too. His eyes were sweeping over Will’s face, dipping towards his mouth. They traveled down the line of Will’s throat, and Hannibal licked his lips while they drifted down across Will’s body. He was… looking. Interested. The realization made Will feel daring. “They’re nice,” he said softly. Hannibal’s eyes flicked back up to his own, and he allowed his eyes to roam over the other man deliberately. “I think I like the shape of you in them more, though.”

Hannibal huffed a little disbelieving breath that could be a laugh. He settled in the seat opposite Will, folding one knee elegantly over the other. “Bold of you,” he conceded.

Will hummed. “Did you have a nice time with your… friend?”

“It was pleasant enough,” Hannibal replied with a tip of his head. “I didn’t need to leave quite as early as I did, but I wanted to give you alone time with Alana.”

Will tipped his own head, giving Hannibal a curious smile. “Why is that?”

“I know you had… feelings for her. Now that you’re well, you’re free to pursue them,” Hannibal replied. His upper lip twitched, and Will shifted in his seat.

“I had feelings for her when my brain was boiling in my head,” he pointed out. “I craved the stability she offered. The gentle understanding of her demeanor. It didn’t hurt anything that she is a beautiful woman, either. I don’t have feelings for her, though.”

“No?” Hannibal asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

“No,” Will confirmed with a small smile. “I would have preferred if you’d have stayed with me.”

Hannibal grinned, and Will noted a small flush on the high arches of his cheekbones. “And why is that?”

“You’re more fun to look at,” Will teased, and the blush on the other man’s cheeks deepened. “And I prefer your company.”

“Has something changed without me knowing it?” Hannibal wondered, pursing his lips in an effort to keep the smile from his face.

Will glanced away from him for a moment, looking out the window. “Nothing’s changed,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’ve just realized something about myself. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Hannibal chuckled, and Will glanced back at him with a small smile of his own. “Not uncomfortable in the least.”

“I wanted to be sure,” Will admitted softly. “My gift is usually fairly accurate, but… I’ve been wrong before.”

“Why do I doubt that?” Hannibal laughed.

Will blushed, biting his lip while looking back outside. “Would you like to come for a walk with me and the dogs?”

“I would,” Hannibal said, glancing around in surprise as his dogs manifested upon hearing the ‘w’ word.

Hannibal took Will’s coat from the hook, sliding it over his shoulders affectionately. Will blushed while he took his worn scarf from the hook too, weaving it around his neck to tuck it into his coat. “I’m feeling better, you know,” Will teased.

“I can see that.” Hannibal agreed while buttoning up Will’s coat over his scarf ends.

“I mean, I can put on my own coat,” Will laughed.

Hannibal’s eyes swept over his face again, a gentle curve to the set of his mouth. “And what if I told you that I wanted to?” he asked. His breath swept over Will’s face while his hands fiddled with Will’s scarf around his neck, tucking it in and adjusting it against his skin. He was close enough that Will could feel his body heat through his jacket, and he swallowed.

He glanced up, noting the expressive interest in the older man’s eyes. The way they couldn’t seem to settle anywhere on Will’s face. “I guess I’d ask you why,” Will replied after a breath.

Hannibal grinned, biting his lip as if considering something. His fingers were still in the lapels of Will’s coat, and Will fought the urge to lean in. “Because you’re fun to look at, too,” he said lowly, all teasing gone from his voice.

Will could feel heat crawl up his cheeks, and he averted his eyes with a shy smile. “I can’t walk very far,” he said softly. “I get vertigo, still. I’m trying to push past it.”

“Unfortunately,” Hannibal sighed, stepping away from Will to gather his own coat. “This is not something you’ll be able to push past. You need time, Will. When you feel like you’re pushing yourself, stop.”

Will tugged the door open once his coat was on, and his dogs rushed past him to head into the yard. Hannibal followed after him, each keeping a leisurely pace as they trailed behind his eager dogs. Ellie was the only one that stuck by their legs, and Will knew it was because her hips bothered her immensely when it was cold like this.

The sun was shining brightly, and Will winced as it refracted off the snow-white landscape. It was too bright for him, but he pressed on. Hannibal walked close by his side, his elbow brushing against Will’s arm occasionally. “This is Ellie, I assume?”

She glanced up at him upon hearing her name, and Will grinned at the surprise on Hannibal’s face. “Yeah,” he confirmed anyway. “Ellie, this is Hannibal.”

Her eyebrows shifted while she glanced at Will because he called her name, but she focused back on Hannibal again after a second. “Smart little thing,” he mused. “They all know their names.”

“They do,” he replied. The way Ellie was walking was breaking Will’s heart. The rest of his pack seemed to be perfectly content hauling ass around his property without him, so he stopped walking and just stood still for a few minutes. Hannibal paused, turning to Will with a curious expression while Ellie wandered away enough to pee. “It’s… it might be too bright out here for me right now.”

Hannibal squinted, glancing around at all the bright white and grimaced. “I imagine it would be. Would you like to head back inside?”

Will shook his head, gesturing towards his excited dogs. “They need a minute. It’s good for them to wear themselves out.”

After a few minutes, Zoe returned from her excursion with the others. “This must be Zoe,” Hannibal laughed. He looked down at her, and a small laugh bubbled out from his lips. She looked up upon hearing her name but didn’t look nearly as impressed with Hannibal as Ellie was. Hannibal bit his lip to keep from laughing, and Will shoved his shoulder.

“She’s… goofy looking, I know,” Will chuckled. “Don’t laugh at the lady, it’s rude.”

“Where did you find her?” Hannibal asked, still staring down at her outrageous overbite.

“I’ve had her since she was a puppy,” Will replied. “I visited a place that euthanizes dogs that are past their holding time for adoption. She was due to be euthanized the following day. No one wanted her because she’s not… classically cute like other dogs. I saved her.”

Hannibal’s smile melted from his face and he bent down to pet Zoe, who perked up at the attention. “Glad you’re still with us, Zoe.”

Will’s heart hammered in his chest, and he stepped into Hannibal’s space as he straightened up. He looked surprised by Will’s proximity, but not offended. Will gripped the lapels of his coat, and Hannibal stepped into his space, closing the distance between them entirely. Hannibal’s icy fingers tucked into the hair at the nape of his neck, and their fogged breath ghosted across one another’s faces. “Why now, Hannibal?” he asked softly. “I’ve been here this whole time. Why now?”

Hannibal’s eyes dipped towards his mouth briefly before returning up to Will’s eyes. “I suppose I realized at the dinner party,” he admitted just as softly. “I was surrounded by people who did not know me and had no interest in trying to. All of them were there for free food and free wine, a chance to mingle with the high society elite that accept invitations to my home. No one was there for me, Will, but you were. The only time you smiled was in my company. I had… planned to keep you at arm’s length, but… it’s better to be seen. Especially by you. I’d rather have your company for dinner every night for the rest of my life than host another empty soiree where I am invisible in my own home.”

“I didn’t like seeing you like that,” Will admitted, tugging Hannibal just an inch closer so they could share body heat. “I stayed to spend time with my friend, but he was missing most of the night. I like who you are when you’re with me,” he sighed. “I like who you are when you’re… you.”

Hannibal’s fingers tightened in the curls at the back of his head, and he leaned forward while Will tipped his face up. Will parted his mouth slightly as their lips met. The kiss was soft. Sweet. Gentle presses of their mouths, meeting then retreating. Will trapped his plush upper lip between his own, savoring the softness of it.

He let go of Hannibal’s coat, as he didn’t seem like he was going anywhere, and slid his hands up to cup the corners of his jaw. He tipped his head, parting his mouth more, and Hannibal reciprocated. His tongue swept just past the confines of his lips, and Hannibal’s own met him there. He still tasted faintly of toothpaste, and Will sighed into his mouth while deepening the kiss. Hannibal’s tongue breached his mouth, tasting him leisurely. He’d never been kissed like this. Like the other person wanted to devour him.

It was… fucking incredible. Will pressed his lips against Hannibal’s more firmly, and he swept his tongue against the other man’s before delving briefly into the heat of Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal groaned, pulling away enough to breathe before capturing Will’s mouth again.

A sharp bark startled them, and they pulled away with a wet smack of their lips. Both of their eyes were dilated, their lips reddened and damp. Their cheeks were flushed as they stared at one another, goofy smiles on their faces. Will glanced away to see who was upset, and he wasn’t surprised to find Max there, glancing between them while his tail beat unhappily against the snow. “Someone’s jealous,” Hannibal said softly, tugging Will back in for a chaste kiss.

“He doesn’t like sharing my attention with anyone else,” Will said distractedly, chasing Hannibal’s lips down for another gentle kiss.

“He’ll have to get used to it,” Hannibal replied dryly between soft kisses.

“I am going to find pee in the weirdest goddamn places,” Will laughed. Hannibal’s eyes crinkled in amusement, and he leaned in to kiss Will again.

The rest of his pack meandered back to them while they stood, kissing like fools in the snow. “We should head in,” Will said, fighting a shiver that was working up his spine.

Hannibal reluctantly let him go, and Will whistled to get his dogs to follow him up onto the porch.

They headed inside where they shucked their jackets, and Will turned to Hannibal while licking the flavor of him from his lips. “Would you like tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be perfect. Thank you,” he agreed softly.

“I have Earl Grey and that green tea you brought me,” Will offered.

“Earl Grey, please.”

Will put some distance between them by heading into the kitchen to make their tea. His hands were shaking, and he was decidedly in over his head. He wanted more, but… he had no idea what to do about it. He wasn’t even sure what more entailed, really. His dick needed a minute to calm down, so he busied himself with making their tea. “Do you like sugar?” Will called from the kitchen.

“One, please,” Hannibal called back.

Will made their mugs the same way and headed back into the living room. Hannibal was sitting in one of the chairs, petting Max who was hoarding all of his attention. He handed the cup to Hannibal, their fingers brushing briefly as the cup exchanged hands.

He sat in the chair opposite Hannibal, wrapping his icy fingers around the hot mug gratefully. “This is all… very new for me,” Will said softly. Hannibal’s eyes settled on him, and he could feel their weight even when he wasn’t looking at him. “I’ve never… been this involved with anyone. And never with another… uh, man. Have you… with a man?”

Hannibal’s cheeks heated, and he glanced down while petting Max’s head. “A few times, yes.”

“Oh,” Will replied dumbly. “So… both?”

“And anyone in between,” he said with a wink, causing Will to blush a vibrant red. “I’ve never allowed gender to hold any sway over my persuasions. When there is attraction, I embrace it.”

Jealousy was clawing up Will’s throat, so he scorched it with a sip of scalding tea. Whatever expression was on his face caused Hannibal to sigh, and he looked up when Hannibal leaned forward in his chair. “I’ve never been this involved with anyone, Will. Much of what I’m telling you happened years ago. I have not bedded anyone in at least a year. My every thought has been entirely consumed by you alone.”

Wil fidgeted with his mug while his leg bounced with anxiety. “I might be too vanilla for you, I think,” he sighed.

“I somehow doubt that,” Hannibal chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Have you ever felt attraction to another man?”

Will shook his head, averting his eyes down to his cup. “Not once,” he admitted awkwardly. “Not until you.”

“Why me, Will?” he asked softly.

“You are… beautiful,” Will said honestly, his blush creeping up towards his hairline. “The real you is beautiful. When you’re smiling and goofy, your humor so dry I’m not even sure if you’re joking or not. Your demeanor is peaceful to me. When you’re sketching or sipping a drink with me, or when you’re teasing or talking with me. I like seeing you relaxed, your suit cast aside with your shirt sleeves rolled up. I enjoy you, Hannibal. Your company, your attention. I… only recently discovered that the rest of you is apparently appealing to me, too. I don’t know what to do with it, though.”

Hannibal’s eyes had softened as he confessed, and he blushed at the tender expression on his face. “There’s nothing you need to do with it,” he replied softly. “We can go slow. I assure you that if all you wanted to do was kiss me silly for the rest of my days, I’d find joy in that.”

“That’s not all I want to do,” Will chuckled, averting his eyes down again. “But kissing you silly for a little bit while I figure it out is not a bad idea. Why me, Hannibal?” He asked, repeating the same question that Hannibal asked him.

Hannibal sighed, sipping his tea while considering the question. “If I am to be entirely honest, it happened exactly the opposite of how it happened for you.”

Will raised an eyebrow at that, tugging his lip between his teeth. “You thought I was pretty, and then you got to know me.”

Hannibal’s lips pursed, and he gave Will an unimpressed look. “I thought you were the singularly most beautiful person I had ever seen in my entire life,” he replied. The conviction in his voice made Will’s blush deepen. “Your eyes are not a single color. They change constantly. Yesterday they were blue like the waters of the ocean before a storm. Today they are green, like sunlight filtering through the leaves in the summertime. Occasionally they are gray, the same color as steel in winter. You hide them behind glasses that you do not need, but I see them all the same. The cut of your jawline, the flawless perfection of your long throat. Your magnificent body that you cover in ill-fitting clothes. You do your best to hide how beautiful you are, but I’ve seen you since day one, Will.”

Will sipped his tea, bouncing his leg awkwardly. Hannibal’s eyes shifted to the movement, and his mouth lifted in a small smile. “Your physical beauty was apparent, but when I realized how fiercely intelligent you are, I was lost. Your dry wit, your snark and sass when you’re uncomfortable. Bit by bit, you opened up to me, and I…” he hesitated, glancing out the window while biting his plush bottom lip. “I felt grateful. Every time you came to me, I felt grateful. I know precisely what you mean when you say that my demeanor is peaceful, as I feel quite the same with you. Watching you with your dogs feels like I’m witnessing a miracle. I’ve never met a single soul that could harness the level of devotion and care that you do, and I yearn to be on the receiving end of it.”

A burst of laughter escaped Will’s mouth, and he sat back in his seat. “You want me to care for you like I care for my dogs?”

“I want you to care for me,” Hannibal admitted. The passion in his voice made Will swallow thickly, and he set his mug of tea aside to lean forward in his own seat.

He gripped Hannibal’s hand that wasn’t holding his mug, squeezing it gently. “I do,” he said softly. “Hannibal, I do.”

The small, pleased, flush on Hannibal’s cheeks made Will blush, too. He sat back in his seat, picking up his abandoned teacup. It was just about time for him to take his afternoon meds, and he glanced towards the kitchen. “Twenty minutes,” Hannibal reminded him, making Will laugh.

“Yes Doc,” he teased. “I’ve got this wonderful guy that stocked my fridge with food. You hungry?”

The rosy tint of Hannibal’s cheeks deepened, and he nodded. “Let me, Will. I’ll make us something for lunch.”

“You’ve done too much,” he countered, standing from his seat to move towards the kitchen. “I can get us some food on a plate.”

Hannibal stood up fluidly, stepping into Will’s space to press a palm to the side of his neck. “You should be resting,” he sighed. “Let me reheat something for both of us while you try to settle in for a nap.”

“After lunch,” Will agreed with a tired stretch while he followed Hannibal into the kitchen. “Will you stay with me?”

Hannibal paused mid-fridge rummage, turning to Will with an arched eyebrow. “While you… nap?”

Will’s cheeks heated to the point where he felt like he could cook an egg on them. “Yeah,” he said softly, averting his eyes towards his chipped counter.

Hannibal licked his lips, turning his attention back to the freezer to pick something out for Will. “Forgive me for assuming, but that sounds like the very opposite of going slow.”

“Forget I asked,” Will sighed, standing from the stool to retreat to his living room.

Strong arms snatched him around his waist, tugging him back against the heat of Hannibal’s chest. “What is it you’d like in this scenario, Will?” he asked. Hot breath ghosted across Will’s ear, and he shivered. “Are you asking me to stay in your house? Care for your dogs while you sleep?”

Will shook his head, tipping it to the side to make room for Hannibal’s mouth. The invitation was accepted beautifully, as Hannibal immediately planted an open-mouthed kiss there. “Are you asking me to hold you while you sleep? Rest with you?”

Will shivered again, pressing back against the warmth of his chest as though he were trying to wear Hannibal like a coat. “Kind of?” Will sighed.

“You want to kiss me before you drift off?” he asked. His voice was low and gravelly while his mouth brushed the skin below his ear, and Will nodded. “I’m trying to understand our new boundaries, Will. I need you to be clear with me about what you want.”

His mind immediately supplied the visual of tugging that golden plug from Hannibal’s body, and he blushed as his cock jerked to life in his slacks. Hannibal inhaled greedily, and his blush traveled down his neck. “What are you thinking of, I wonder?”

“You…” Will gasped as Hannibal tugged his earlobe between his teeth, laving it gently with his tongue. “You can smell me?”

“I could smell you at my dinner party that night as well,” Hannibal agreed. Will shuddered, realizing just how fucking screwed he was in that moment. “Not as well as I can right now, but I assume that was because you were very unwell that night. I still wonder what caused it. Was it me?”

A broken moan escaped Will’s mouth while Hannibal trailed his fingers dangerously low on his abdomen, his pinkie barely brushing the head of Will’s cock where it stood at attention in his slacks. “Y-yeah,” he admitted.

“While I was eating?” Hannibal chuckled, teasing and gritty. “At a dinner party? What could I have been doing to warrant your arousal?”

Will arched his back, trying desperately to get Hannibal to move his hand lower. To get him to grip him or touch him in any goddamn capacity. “I hallucinated something,” Will breathed. “Something regarding you. It was… stimulating.”

“What did you hallucinate, Will?” he asked. His lips, damp and warm, dragged against the column of Will’s throat while his hand inched down infinitesimally. His pinkie grazed Will’s cock, and Will moaned.

“I c-can’t,” he pleaded. “I can’t tell you, Hannibal. Please. It’s… embarrassing.”

“Very well,” Hannibal sighed. A softer kiss was pressed to his pulse point, and he let Will go. Will’s entire body felt like a livewire, his blood pounding hot and needy in his veins. He felt fucking bereft as he watched Hannibal move back into the kitchen, his mouth open in disbelief. “Time for your meds, beloved.”

Will was about to unleash on him in frustration when he noticed Hannibal discretely adjust himself in his slim-fit slacks. He wasn’t unaffected by Will at all, and the thought placated him a bit while he willed his own erection away. “It was how you were eating,” Will lied. Hannibal flicked his eyes up, pausing his hands as he reheated a glass container of stew. “The slide of your fork, the little sighs of pleasure you made while you ate. I thought about what it would be like if I could pull those sounds from you.”

Hannibal reheated his container, and Will sat back down on the kitchen stool. “My gift,” he sighed, rubbing at his temple. “Sometimes… if someone around me is sad, I feel it like it’s my own. If they’re happy, it rubs off on me, too. When I was sick, I imagined feelings. I thought… I thought I was picking up arousal from you. Every shift in your seat, every flush of your cheeks. I thought you were… getting off. I know I was way off base, just so you are aware of that. It felt real, though.”

Hannibal’s face had gone suspiciously blank, and he rediverted his attention to Will’s lunch. “Were you merely mirroring my imagined arousal?”

“No,” Will chuckled. “It wasn’t just mirroring. It was… interest. As interested as I could be when I was that sick, anyway. I’m not confused about my attraction to you, Hannibal. I never meant to imply that. The things I want from you… I don’t even fully understand them. They aren’t thoughts I’ve ever entertained with anyone else, man or woman. The desire I feel for you sometimes feels like it’s burning my insides like a furnace. I picture your hands on me. Your mouth. Those are things that I understand because I know you’ll bring me pleasure. But I also think about my hands on you. My mouth… on you. I think about it, and it feels like I’m going to ignite. I want it more than anything.”

Hannibal’s eyes had dilated to the point where they looked like shark eyes. Dark and dangerous. His breathing was shallow, mouth parted. Will’s own body responded in kind, and Hannibal pushed the container of stew towards him. “Eat. You shouldn’t be taking your meds on an empty stomach.”

Will’s appetite had decidedly shifted to something a little more carnal, but he reluctantly dug his spoon in the thick stew, stirring it distractedly. “The pace I want from you isn’t slow, just so you know. I want your patience while I learn to… act on my feelings. I’m not good with intimacy. I don’t… I worry that it’ll bore you.”

“Do you truly believe I’d be so callous as to disregard you because of inexperience?” Hannibal asked with a note of offense in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” Will admitted bluntly while curtaining his face behind his hands. He sighed, rubbing his beard with his fingers. “I’m very nervous. I don’t mean to offend you, Hannibal.”

Something in Hannibal’s face softened, and he nodded. “We’ll see if we can alleviate that anxiety after lunch. Eat, Will. Your meds were due ten minutes ago.”

Hannibal reheated himself a serving of something that looked a bit like beef stew as well, and they ate in relative silence. Once they were finished, Hannibal set about to washing the few dishes in the sink while Will took his meds, fidgeting with the bottles enough that he dropped the cap for one.

Will was not feeling tired anymore. His anxiety was ramped up to the point where he could feel his heartbeat thrumming in his neck. He made his way to his small bed in the living area, shucking his sweater in favor of wearing his white tee shirt. He usually slept in his boxers, so he stripped down to them as well before climbing into the sheets.

Hannibal joined him in the living area a few minutes later, looking down at him on the bed with a patient expression on his face. “Would you like me to join you?”

Will nodded, and Hannibal reached for the blankets slowly. “Take your shirt off,” Will blurted out, pausing Hannibal mid-motion. “Please.”

Hannibal straightened up while watching Will curiously. In one swift movement, he tugged the tight-knit sweater over his head, folding the material carefully before setting it aside on the chair. Will swept his eyes over the hard planes of him, tracing them over each bulge of muscle appreciatively. He was dense with muscle, but not overtly so. Every bit of him was toned, and with every subtle movement he made, muscle flexed under his golden skin.

He had the slightest hint of softness around his middle, but Will wouldn’t consider it a belly. His waist was unbelievably narrow. Delicate, almost. He slid his eyes up the dense matting of salt and pepper chest hair, following the curve of a corded shoulder. “You are beautiful,” Will said softly, flicking his eyes up to meet Hannibal’s.

He looked… relieved. Will realized with a start that some part of Hannibal was braced for rejection, and the thought alone was ludicrous. “Are you wearing underwear?” Will wondered. Hannibal nodded, flexing his long fingers into nervous fists by his sides. “Then take your slacks off, too.”

Hannibal swallowed dryly, but his fingers moved to obey Will immediately. His heart hammered in his chest while he watched Hannibal undo his leather belt, sliding it from the loops of his slacks. The sound of the metal clasp clicking seemed overloud as he set it on the chair next to his sweater.

He undid the button on them next, sliding the zipper down. His fingers eased into the material while sliding it off his hips, then his legs. He straightened back up when they were off, folding them to set them aside with the rest of his clothes.

He was wearing tiny little black boxer briefs that were straining with the effort of holding his half-hard cock. Will’s throat felt like sandpaper while he looked him over, appreciating the endless expanse of slender legs. They were the legs of a dancer, delicate yet muscular.

Hannibal fiddled with the band of his boxers in an anxious movement, and Will gave him a gentle smile while flicking the covers back on the other side of the bed.

He eased into the bed gently, covering himself with the heavy blankets. Will noted that he stayed on his side of the bed, carefully not touching Will in any way. Will felt ridiculously hot and flushed, so he yanked his tee shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor.

Hannibal was flat on his back, staring resolutely up at the ceiling. “Do you still feel…?” Hannibal asked, turning his head to take in Will’s expression.

“Attracted to you?” Will finished. Hannibal nodded, and Will shifted closer. He moved Hannibal’s arm out of the way, settling himself against the long line of his body. Every point where their skin touched felt electric, and Will sighed. It felt good.

It felt right.

He pressed his hip forward, demonstrating his arousal for the other man by rutting it against the side of his thigh, and Hannibal shivered. “Yes,” Will admitted breathlessly. “I am attracted to you, Hannibal. Am I what you expected?”

Hannibal flicked his eyes to Will’s in amusement, his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile. “I’ve seen your body, Will. In the hospital?”

Will blushed, averting his eyes to his chest. He raised his hand cautiously, sliding it into the dense chest hair there. It was softer than it looked, and the heat of his skin was remarkably soothing. “I forgot that,” he admitted.

“Seeing you this way is much better,” Hannibal admitted, but his eyes were on Will’s hand that was traveling the expanse of his chest, then the curve of his shoulder. His skin was like silk, the flesh firm and unforgiving under the pressure of his fingers. “Seeing your skin pink with health, the sallowness gone from your cheeks. You were a beauty while you were sick, but now you are magnificent.”

One of his dogs got up from their beds to drink water in the kitchen, and for a while, it was the only noise in the room. Will took his time, allowing his hands to wander over every inch of his arms, his shoulders. His chest was a thing of beauty, so Will wove his fingers back into his chest hair, feeling the steady thrum of his heart under his palm.

Without conscious thought, he moved his fingers over until they rested on a pebbled nipple, tweaking it and rolling it under his fingers. Hannibal’s breathing hitched, and Will watched him close his eyes. “Will you not touch me?” Will asked softly.

Eyes the color of dark honey regarded him for a moment, and Hannibal shook his head. “This is about you,” he sighed. “You said you could understand your feelings about me touching you, as you knew it would bring you pleasure. I want you to touch me, Will. Whatever you want to do, please do. But I’d like you to consider what you’re doing. Ask yourself if it’s bringing you any pleasure.”

“I am feeling pleasure right now, Hannibal,” Will chuckled. “I’m not even doing anything, yet.”

“All the same,” Hannibal replied, arching his back while Will tugged at his nipple a bit more roughly. “It’s important to me to know that you… return my feelings, Will.”

“So I have an open invitation to do whatever I want to you right now?” Will asked. His voice was deeper than it usually was, the gravelly timber of it surprising them both.

“Yes,” Hannibal rasped. “Whatever you want or don’t want. Everything is quite literally in your hands.”

His cock jerked in his boxers at the thought alone, and Will bit his lip. He eased the covers back enough that he could see Hannibal, allowing his eyes to wander over his body appreciatively. “I don’t think you fully understand that I am not even remotely uncomfortable right now,” Will teased. “There is nothing I’m seeing that makes me question myself,” he said while pointedly staring at the thick line of his cock in his boxers. “My mouth is watering just looking at you. I think you’re being too careful with me, Hannibal.”

“Then do as you please,” Hannibal said lowly. There was a flush on his chest that spread up his neck, and Will wanted to taste the color of it with his tongue.

He grinned when he realized that he could do that if he wanted. He’d just been given an all-access pass to this beautiful man, and he planned to use it.

This was a test of some sort on Hannibal’s part. There were parts of him that doubted Will’s attraction to him, and the thought of that alone made Will feel bold. He eased one thigh over Hannibal’s legs, moving himself until he was straddling his thighs. He could feel the jut of Hannibal’s cock against his abdomen as he leaned forward to suckle a nipple into his mouth, and Hannibal jerked under him.

He tugged his nipple with his teeth gently, sucking the puckered nub between his lips to flick it with his tongue. It was a strange sensation, as he’s never done this to anyone that had chest hair. It was the farthest thing from a turn off, though.

He licked his way up to the strong column of his neck, suckling the skin there gently. He tasted of salt and clean skin, and Will moaned as he rocked his hips forward. His scent here was concentrated, spicy and heady. Will inhaled greedily, biting down on the soft skin while his hips flexed against him in search of relief.

Will found his mouth, licking into it while rutting against the crease of his thigh. He cupped the corners of his jaw, tipping his head to get better access to his hot mouth, and Hannibal kissed him back with equal fervor.

He thought he could definitely come from this alone. He adjusted his hips while they kissed, aligning their cocks perfectly before grinding down again. The feel of rutting against another cock was bizarrely arousing. Feeling someone else’s blatant interest was… intense. He sucked Hannibal’s tongue, moaning breathlessly while flexing his hips against Hannibal’s cock.

He wanted to see him. He wanted it with a sudden fierceness that stole his breath.

He sat back on his haunches, licking the damp flavor of Hannibal from his lips. He trailed his fingers down Hannibal’s chest, then his stomach, allowing them to come to rest on the band of his briefs. “Can I?” he asked, staring intently up at Hannibal’s dilated eyes.

“If you would like to,” Hannibal said lowly. “I’ve told you, anything you want to do, Will.”

With no further encouragement needed, he slid Hannibal’s underwear down his hips. Hannibal lifted his ass from the bed a bit while Will tugged, his throat going bone dry at the thick, uncut, long, cock that slapped against Hannibal’s abdomen once his underwear was off.

He felt a twinge in his lower belly at the thought of what it might feel like to take him inside of his own body. With Will’s inexperience, it would hurt. There was no way around that. He swallowed, and Hannibal sighed. “I can put them back on if you’re uncomfortable.”

Will flicked his eyes up, swallowing excess saliva in his mouth again. Hannibal’s face looked… crestfallen, and Will shook his head adamantly. His ridiculous man had taken Will’s silence and stillness as a lack of enthusiasm, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. “I’d rather you didn’t,” Will managed to grit out. He trailed his fingers back up Hannibal’s thighs.

“Then what’s wrong?” Hannibal wondered. Will could tell from his twitching fingers that he wanted to cover himself up, wanted to hide from Will’s eyes, and the thought was repellent.

“I was thinking about what this would feel like,” he said boldly while wrapping his fingers around the girth of him. Hannibal’s spine arched from the bed, closing his eyes while Will jerked his cock experimentally. “I was thinking about this inside of me.”

Hannibal shuddered, and he cracked his eyes back open to watch Will’s hand while it stroked his cock. “And how did that thought make you feel?”

Will chuckled, tipping his head ruefully up at the older man. “Is this therapy?”

“It’s a conversation,” Hannibal countered, and Will laughed.

“Fair enough,” he sighed. He squeezed his fingers a little tighter, smearing his thumb across the damp head of his cock. Hannibal shivered again, and Will wetted his lips. “My first thought is that it would hurt. There’s no way around that, is there?”

“The first few times, it may burn a bit,” Hannibal sighed, his face flushed with the gentle pleasure that Will must be bringing him despite his inexperience. He knew how to jerk off, so he was sure this couldn’t be terrible. “But if that were ever a thing you wanted, I would take my time with you. I’d start by easing a finger into your body, acclimating you to the intrusion. Once you were opened enough, I’d press another inside to stretch you open more. I would take my time with you, using my hands and my mouth to get you to loosen enough for my cock. It might not happen the first time, perhaps even the second, but eventually you’d take three fingers easily. When that happened, I’d press inside of you. I’d go slow, give you time to adjust. There might be some pain, but I assure you, it would be the furthest thing from your mind.”

Will’s gift was a blessing in that moment. He visualized Hannibal’s explanation in crystal clear accuracy, and the thought made his cock throb heavily in his boxers. Without conscious thought, he tugged himself from them, sliding his hips upwards so their erections lined up. Gripping them both in his palm, he jerked them roughly, and the feel of Hannibal’s cock pressed tightly against his own felt like lightning was arcing from his groin. “God,” he gasped.

“Will,” Hannibal blurted, shocked and needy. His own cock was almost as long as Hannibal’s was, but not nearly as… girthy. They fit together in his hand almost perfectly, even though he couldn’t close his fist around them both.

“You feel incredible,” Will whimpered. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. If I wake up and it was a fucking dream, I’m going to sob.”

Hannibal chuckled breathlessly, thrusting up into Will’s hand with needy little lifts of his hips. “Have you been dreaming of me, beloved?”

“Constantly,” Will admitted while gripping them both a little tighter, jerking them a little more purposefully. “I haven’t been able to get it up in months, and now that I can, you’re in every thought. You’re in every fantasy. You’re all I think about. I’d wake up in the hospital because I’d had a wet dream about you. It’s like I’m fourteen again, and I can’t…” he gasped, jerking them harder. “I can’t think, Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s back arched again, his hips flexing mindlessly into Will’s hand. There was a pearl of precum leaking from his cock, and Will… fuck, Will wanted to taste it. He wanted it with a fierceness that he’d never experienced in his life, and he let their cocks go abruptly.

Hannibal whimpered, and Will leaned forward to wrap his lips around him.

“Will!” Hannibal bellowed out, his shoulders lifting from the bed in shock. A tentative hand wove into his hair, but it didn’t press forward or away. It was just… there. Encouraging. Will licked the head of his cock in his mouth, collected the musky salt of him onto his tongue. It was perfect. Completely Hannibal in every way, and Will wanted more of it.

His mouth had watered with the taste of him, and he kept the excess saliva in his mouth as he slid down the length of his cock. His jaw was stretched wide, but it wasn’t impossibly difficult. He knew what he liked, the only consideration was how to do it to someone else.

As he eased back, he dragged the pointed end of his tongue along the underside of his cock. Hannibal’s thighs twitched beside his shoulders, and he glanced up while swirling his tongue around the head of it again.

Hannibal was smoldering at him. His eyes were pitch black, damp mouth parted in awe. The sheen of sweat on his face highlighted his cheekbones while his hair fell over his forehead in a less than perfect coif. The sight of him so wrecked made Will throb uncomfortably, and he reached between his legs to tug at his own cock while sucking Hannibal back down his throat. “Perfect,” Hannibal gasped. “Oh, Will, you’re a perfect thing,” he continued. His praise was thoughtless. Almost babbling, and Will smirked around the girth of him.

“Beautiful, perfect, man,” he sighed. Definitely babbling, Will mused. He’d never heard Hannibal babble about anything in the entirety of their friendship, yet that’s precisely what Will had reduced him to. He wanted to see what else he could do.

He released Hannibal from his mouth, trailing sucking kisses down the slick length of him. His balls were drawn tight against his body, and Will rolled them in his free hand, sucking against the base of his cock with an opened mouth.

With no warning, he took him back into his mouth, giving him a rough suck that seemed to pull Hannibal’s soul straight from his body. His hips lifted from the bed, a strangled noise escaping his throat while he threw his head back in rapture. “Close,” he gasped breathlessly. “Will, stop. Will!”

Will ignored him in favor of pulling up towards the head of his cock, releasing his balls so he could jerk him while keeping him in the warmth of his mouth. He swirled his tongue around him, and that’s all it took.

Thick, hot, spurts of come hit the back of his throat and coated his mouth. The sheer volume and velocity was a shock, and his eyes watered as he fought off the urge to choke. He swallowed quickly, groaning low in his throat as he spilled across his mattress. His whole body felt alive with pleasure, sated pulses rolling through his limbs while he milked Hannibal with his mouth.

Hannibal flopped bonelessly to the bed, swiping sweat from his brow while watching Will who was still latched onto his cock. He gave his own cock one more tug, shuddering through a final pulse of his own orgasm while gripping Hannibal’s cock and working a final spurt out of him, too. It was much less than the first few, and he swallowed it easily.

He pulled off of him with a wet pop, swiping a hand across his jaw to clear the saliva and come that had dribbled out. Hannibal watched him, awestruck, before tugging him down for a claiming kiss.

Their teeth clicked while their mouths clashed, tongues battling for dominance. Hannibal groaned, and Will imagined he could taste himself in his mouth. Hannibal slid his mouth away from Will’s own, licking his chin to collect the flavor of himself from Will’s skin.

His own cock twitched again as he settled out to Hannibal’s side and he rutted against him, even though it caused a bright stab of overstimulation to rock through him.

Hannibal chuckled against his mouth when he felt Will thrusting against him, and he pulled away with a disbelieving expression on his sweaty face. “Were you this voracious before you were ill?”

Will shook his head, shocked with himself when he felt the tell-tale signs of another erection coming. “No,” he admitted. “Not ever.”

“You need to rest,” Hannibal sighed while smoothing damp curls from Will’s forehead. “Believe me when I say it’s not because I don’t want to continue, but we’ve already done more than I think you should have while recovering.”

Will wanted to argue that. He really did, but his eyes were closing of their own accord. He pulled his hips back a bit while settling out against Hannibal’s chest, nestling into the warmth of him with a contented sigh. “Don’t like being told what to do,” he mumbled while tugging his boxers back up his thighs.

He felt the responding rumble of laughter in Hannibal’s chest more than he heard it. “If I could create the perfect counterpart for myself, I couldn’t have imagined anyone more ideal than you, Will. Sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Will snuggled into him a bit more aggressively, and sleep took him.

Chapter Text

He awoke several hours later to the sound of his front door closing, a gust of icy air making him shiver under the blankets while he blinked awake. An army of paws meandered in from the doorway, and he heard Hannibal hush them before he retreated towards the kitchen.

It was dark in his living room when he woke up, the only light coming from his kitchen where there was also the smell of delicious food wafting. He crawled from his bed exhaustedly, tugging his boxers that had wadded up in his sleep, then rifling through his drawer for his pajama pants. His sweater and slacks were folded neatly by the foot of the bed, so he took his sweater and tugged it over his head.

Hannibal was reheating a few portions of food from his freezer, and Will wrapped his arms around him from behind as he worked. “I was just about to wake you,” he said softly. Will could hear the smile in his voice, so he pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade through his black sweater. “Did you sleep well, or was I too loud?”

“I only just woke up,” Will croaked while rubbing his sleepy face against Hannibal’s warm back. “Thanks for taking the dogs out.”

“Ellie was desperate,” Hannibal admitted, turning in Will’s arms to tug him closer. “I fed them before I let them out. I found the glucosamine tablets in the cabinet, and I put one in Ellie’s food. Do you usually give her one or two?”

“One with her breakfast and one with her dinner,” Will replied. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

Hannibal pressed a kiss to his mouth, chaste but affectionate. “Hardly, but I appreciate that you think so.”

With an encouraging palm pressed to the small of his back, Will was ushered towards the counter stool with a serving of what looked like pork with roasted vegetables. He was so tired that eating something in that moment wasn’t especially appealing, but he ate it anyway while Hannibal prepared his own plate. “You must hate having leftovers instead of cooking something for us,” Will chuckled.

Hannibal sat beside him, throwing a smirk at Will with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not ideal, but I think I’ve made more than you could eat before it goes frost bitten.”

“I doubt I’d even notice,” Will chuckled while cutting into his pork. “This was unbelievably thoughtful, and it’s appreciated.”

“You said yesterday that you’d like to do something nice for me in return,” Hannibal began cautiously. “Were you serious?”

“Very,” Will smiled, taking a sip of his iced water that Hannibal had placed by his food. “Have you thought of something?”

Hannibal swallowed his bite, giving Will a curt nod. “Alana called me last night to apologize for her behavior during your recovery. She told me that she spoke to you after I left yesterday, and that she has a better understanding of our dynamic now, even if she doesn’t approve of it.”

Will blushed, sipping his water pointedly to avoid eye contact for a minute. “Did she say what we spoke about?”

“No,” he replied almost wistfully. “I was hoping to ask you.”

“She…” Will groaned, shifting on the stool so he could take in the other man’s expression. “She was trying to get me to say that my… feelings for you are transference. She pointed out that transference is one-sided, and I… just kind of told her that you talk to me about things that matter. That’s all.”

Hannibal’s stillness was vaguely alarming. “Did you tell her about what I’ve told you?”

“No details,” Will assured him. “Just that it’s not… one sided. That it’s never been one sided. She backed off after that.”

“I wouldn’t mind you telling her that I’ve shared with you about Lithuania, but my sister… Mischa, she’s off limits for discussion. I’ve only ever spoken about her to you, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“I would never share anything you tell me about her with anyone, Hannibal,” Will said softly. “Never.”

He seemed placated by that, his shoulders loosening from their stiff hold. “Jack is coming to my home for dinner on Friday night. I extended the invite to Alana as well,” he said slowly. “I’d like to ask you to join.”

Will felt his insides curdle at the thought. “I haven’t talked to Jack about… quitting yet.”

“I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to do so,” Hannibal pressed gently. “You’d have me as well as Alana who could attest to the fact that you’ve been doing much better without it in your life. It would also give him time to begin finding someone to replace you.”

“This is the thing you want from me?” Will asked in disbelief. “The favor you’re asking is that you want me to come to your house and let you cook for me?” Hannibal nodded, and Will deflated. “That doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”

“I know you would normally avoid such a situation,” Hannibal pointed out. “I know you don’t care for my theatrics during dinner parties. This would be much less formal, I promise you.”

“How can I say no to that?” Will groused. “I can’t drive there. Or at least I shouldn’t.”

“I’ll come get you and your pack in the early afternoon,” Hannibal told him. “You can stay the night, if you’re agreeable to that.”

“With all of my dogs?” Will asked, barely containing the shock in his voice. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

“I do,” Hannibal grinned, spearing another bite of pork. “You’d only need to bring their leashes and Ellie’s supplement. I’ll make them something at the house.”

Will stared at him like had grown another head, huffing in disbelief. “This is what you want from me.”

“Yes,” Hannibal chuckled. “It’s what I want.”

The fight left him at that, and he shrugged. “Okay. Yeah.”

Hannibal’s eyes lit up, the corners of them crinkling beautifully with his smile. “Wonderful.”

Will did the dishes after dinner, as there weren’t many of them. Hannibal had retreated to the living room, and Will could hear some activity, but wasn’t sure what he was doing. He took his evening pills while he was in the kitchen, realizing that as of tomorrow he’d be skipping his afternoon dose of steroids.

When he emerged from the kitchen, it was to Hannibal making his bed, fresh sheets tucked over it crisply. “You didn’t have to,” Will sighed.

“I did,” he chuckled while bundling the dirty sheets in his arms. “We made a bit of a mess. I’m just going to start a load of laundry, but you should relax. It’s getting late.”

Will climbed back into the bed while Hannibal went off to wash the dirty sheets, and he used a few pillows to prop his back against the wall. Hannibal came back a few minutes later, settling out on the bed beside Will’s hip. “Did you take your meds?”

Will rolled his eyes, lacing their fingers together. “Yes.”

“Good,” Hannibal replied distractedly, gnawing on his still-reddened bottom lip. “If you’ve… had experience with another man, I wouldn’t be angry with you. I just want you to know that.”

Will flinched, gripping Hannibal’s hand tighter briefly. “You’re the first. I told you that. Why would you say that?”

A flush of pink stained Hannibal’s cheeks while he stared down at their interlocked fingers. “You… seemed experienced.”

A bubble of laughter burst from Will’s mouth, and he blushed. “I did good, then.”

“Better than good,” Hannibal sighed, flicking his eyes up at Will’s face carefully. “I wouldn’t be angry, Will.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” Will said through another laugh. “I just… did what I thought would feel good. I did whatever I wanted. I’m glad it was… pleasant.”

“Was it pleasant for you, Will?” he asked quietly.

“Very,” he chuckled, reaching up to touch the heat on his own cheeks with the back of his hand. “I was a little surprised at… the big finale. There was more than I thought there would be, even though… I know. It wasn’t unpleasant, though. I felt… powerful making you feel like that.”

He watched Hannibal consider that, his long fingers rubbing gently at his chin. “You consistently surprise me. It’s a rare thing, Will.”

“I think I should be offended,” Will grinned while bringing Hannibal’s fingers up to kiss his knuckles. “You kind of just insinuated that I was a slut. A lying slut, by the way.”

The outrage on Hannibal’s face was absolutely priceless. “I did not!” he declared indignantly. “I… merely considered that there may have been a less than pleasant experience you may have had previously. Perhaps one that you didn’t precisely consider to be experience.”

“I’ve never touched a dick that wasn’t my own,” Will said evenly, delighting in the vibrant blush on Hannibal’s cheeks. “Not until you.”

“That’s settled then,” Hannibal replied immediately, seeking to end this conversation as soon as possible. “I apologize.”

“Kind of flattering,” Will teased, smiling gently while stroking the sharp edge of Hannibal’s cheekbone. “Think about it. If it was that good, I’ll only get better.”

“Will,” Hannibal breathed. “Please.”

Without thought, he leaned forward and snatched the soft fabric of Hannibal’s sweater, tugging him forward for a kiss. It was a gentle thing, just soft lips and wet tongue, savoring and exploring with no ulterior motive other than adulation. When he pulled away, Hannibal’s eyes were closed, and his pink tongue darted out to collect the flavor of Will’s mouth from them. His groin tightened at the sight, and he sighed. “Just so we’re both clear,” Will said softly, drawing those dark eyes open. “You can touch me. I want you to. If you’re ever doing something that I don’t like, trust me when I say that I will tell you. I expect the same from you.”

Hannibal’s breath ghosted across his face with a soft chuckle, his eyes closing again as he leaned his forehead against Will’s own. “I can’t even imagine a scenario where I’d tell you to stop.”

“Neither can I,” Will laughed. Hannibal’s eyes widened at that, and he leaned forward again to capture Will’s mouth in a brief kiss.

“I have a few errands to run for myself tomorrow,” Hannibal said softly, still carding his fingers through Will’s hair. “Groceries and things of that nature for the week. I could come here afterwards?”

“You don’t need to,” Will sighed, twisting the blankets between his fingers. “It’s a long drive, and… Jesus, I feel bad. I’ve taken up so much of your time.”

“Yet you’ve still not taken up as much time as I’d like you to,” Hannibal grinned. He pulled his hand from Will’s hair almost reluctantly when Winston rested his head against his knee, and he pet him gently. “I’ll come by tomorrow for a bit. I don’t know if I’ll make it out here again before Friday, and I’d like to see you.”

“I’d like that too,” Will admitted softly.

“Try not to push yourself tomorrow,” Hannibal reminded him with a gentle smile. “Relax as much as possible. At this stage in recovery, you should be finding yourself bored more than tired.”

“Yes doctor,” Will said drolly while leaning forward for another kiss. He climbed from the bed shortly after Hannibal did, shifting his feet while watching him tug on his coat and scarf. His dogs had gotten up, excited by the thought of maybe going for a walk. Will kissed him one more time before he left the house, and then he got himself and his dogs ready for bed.

The following day, he was bored. He’d slept well again, and only got out of bed to take his meds, shower, eat, and let his dogs outside without going outside with them. It was bitterly cold outside, so he only let them out long enough to do what they needed to do before calling them back into the house.

He worked on a few fishing lures leisurely and found that he was much more able to focus on his task now that he wasn’t sick. It was peaceful, and it made the day go by faster without exerting himself. There was a knock on his door, and he smiled as he stood from his work bench to answer it.

Alana stood on this other side of the door, bundled up tight in her peacoat and scarf. It was no wonder why he didn't hear a car pull up. Her Prius ran in stealth mode. His smile fell a bit, but he welcomed her into the house with a wave of his hand. “I brought Lebanese meat pies,” she said brightly while holding up a paper bag in her gloved hand. “Did you eat lunch?”

“I didn’t,” Will admitted while closing the door tight to keep the cold out. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here, Alana.”

“I wanted to,” she chirped, shucking the many layers she was wearing to hang them on the coat rack. “You look much better today.”

Will shrugged, moving towards the kitchen to make them a pot of coffee. “I feel much better when I’m not doing a damned thing.”

“It’ll take some time,” she said, rubbing her fingers together to get the blood flowing in them again. “I wanted to come by, see how you were doing.”

Will could practically taste the hidden meaning in her admission. “You wanted to see if I spoke to Hannibal yesterday, because he told you he was coming here.”

She blushed, and he averted his eyes towards his coffee maker. “I forget sometimes about that gift of yours.”

“Not sure if I’d need an empathy disorder to see the truth,” he teased, throwing her a small smile while scooping out grinds. “I did speak with him.”

“Oh?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “Did he… he must have turned you down, right?”

“He didn’t,” Will admitted, pressing the ‘on’ button for the coffee pot. “Is that what you were hoping for?”

“I hoped that he would be as professional about it as I thought he was,” she sighed. He turned to her, folding his arms across his chest while leaning against his counter.

“He isn’t my therapist, or anything like it anymore,” Will assured her. There was more than slight frustration on his part for having this same conversation with her repeatedly. “I thought you were understanding when you left my house on Friday.”

“I am not here to fight with you,” she said, raising a placating hand. “I’m having dinner at his house on Friday night, and I wanted to make sure I understood the dynamic between you two before I spoke with him.”

“Well I’ll be there too, so,” he said, stalling out when he noticed the look on her face.

“Jack is also going,” Alana said slowly, and Will nodded.

“I’m aware. Hannibal thinks it might be a good time to tell him that I’m not going to be consulting for him anymore.”

She brightened at that, smiling gently. “You’d have two of us in your corner. I think that’s a good idea, although it’s going to make for a terrible dinner party.”

Will chuckled at that, turning to pull two mugs down from the cabinet. “I have a habit of ruining Hannibal’s dinner parties as of late.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind, Will,” she sighed.

Will poured them each a cup of coffee once it finished, gesturing towards the bag. “You want me to reheat one or two for you?”

“One please,” she replied. He took three from the bag, getting the rest in the fridge before tossing them in his microwave for a minute.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” he grinned, taking the hot pies from the microwave. “Thank you.”

He set two on a plate for himself, and one for Alana on another, handing it off before hesitating. “You want a fork?”

“Who eats a Lebanese meat pie with a fork?” she teased. “Come on. You should be resting.”

He followed her into the living room where they both settled out in the same chairs as on Friday, each eating quietly for a few minutes. “I kissed him,” he blurted out, making Alana choke inelegantly on her meat pie. “I kissed him, and it was perfect.”

She sipped her coffee for a moment, clearly battling with herself to avoid making a scene. “And he kissed you back, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He sure did. He was petting Zoe, and… being fucking Hannibal about it, and I just… kissed him.”

“You still feel attraction towards him?” she wondered.

He thought about the weight of Hannibal’s cock in his mouth, the way he came just at the taste of him on his tongue, and blushed. “Yes,” he croaked out. “I am definitely attracted to him.”

“He really did… nothing to dissuade you? He didn’t question it at all?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, he questioned it,” Will snorted. “I think I’ve… persuaded him that the attraction is genuine.”

However he said it must have implicated more than a kiss, because her blush deepened. “Good lord, Will.”

“Sorry,” he sighed, and he felt a responding blush creep up his face. “I’m happy, Alana. Happy and for the first time in probably a year, perfectly healthy. This is what I want, and it’s what he wants. Please don’t make him feel like a shitbag for it.”

Her laugh was vibrant, even if her blush still stained her cheeks a ruddy pink. “I promise you that I will not make him feel… badly for anything. I’m somehow doubting that he pressured you at all. You seem… forward with him.”

He huffed a laugh, stuffing another bite of meat pie into his mouth. After he swallowed, he shrugged. “He’s picking me up on Friday,” he said slowly. “Me and the dogs. We’re all staying at his house, so… that’ll be another thing that Jack is going to realize. If it were just me, he might not question it. The fact that I’ll be there with my seven dogs kind of demonstrates that I’m not leaving that night.”

Her foot tapped anxiously while she chewed another bite of her pie, her eyes flicking to Will and then away again. “I think that the two of you are moving a little fast,” she conceded with a tilt of her head. “But I am here as a friend and will not make comment.”

“Aside from that comment,” Will laughed.

“Right,” she smiled, setting her plate aside in favor of her coffee mug. They both heard the sound of tires crunching gravel, and she pursed her lips. “He came back today, too?”

“He didn’t know if he’d make it here again once the workweek started,” he said awkwardly. “He wanted to see me before that.”

Will stood to greet him at the door, as he adored startling him by opening it before he even knocked. Today was no different, aside from the fact that Hannibal didn’t have his hand raised to do so. “I’m beginning to think you have cameras surrounding the property,” he teased.

Will beamed at him, tugging him inside from the frigid cold by the lapels of his coat. Max was amped to see him, hopping up onto his back legs and whining low in his throat. “Yes, darling Max,” Hannibal chuckled. “I’ve not seen you in hours. What a travesty that must be.”

He pet Max’s head, reaching out absently to stroke the other dogs that came to demand his attention, too. “They’re not the only ones that missed you,” Will said softly, and Hannibal gave him a flirty grin for it.

“Is that so?” Hannibal replied. He glanced over at Alana, and the soft smile on his face tightened into his plastic one. “Alana, what a surprise.”

“I brought Will lunch,” she said, sliding one knee over the other while sipping her coffee. “Wanted to get to him before his afternoon meds.”

Hannibal flinched, turning to Will while removing his coat. “Tell me you didn’t take afternoon meds. You’re done with them, now.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Will laughed. “I know, Hannibal. I follow your schedule exactly.”

Despite having an audience, Hannibal still slid his icy fingers along the line of Will’s jaw, then his throat. “Good.”

“I just made a pot of coffee,” Will said awkwardly. “You want a cup?”

He nodded, moving to settle himself comfortably at the edge of Will’s bed. Max jumped up immediately, demanding more pets and attention which Hannibal gave him immediately. Will busied himself with making a coffee the way Hannibal liked it before bringing it to him. Their fingers brushed as he handed off the mug, and Hannibal hummed. “Thank you, beloved.”

The term of endearment made Alana clear her throat, and both himself and Hannibal looked mildly uncomfortable with the slip up. “Anytime.”

It was outrageously awkward for a few minutes, and Will settled himself into his chair, sipping his own coffee to keep his hands busy. “I was bored today.”

Hannibal chuckled. “Good.”

“You could take your dogs for a little… walk,” she said the word softly, as she’d watched them enough at this point to know what that word provoked in them.

“I get dizzy sometimes,” he said miserably. “It’s too bright outside, and the cold makes me feel like I’m going to tip over.”

“Vertigo is common in recovery from encephalitis,” she said clinically. “A week or so, and it’ll subside.”

“I made a fishing lure,” Will shrugged. “Much easier to do when your hands aren’t shaking.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t recognize his symptoms before this,” Alana said, shifting towards Hannibal while tapping her foot.

“To be fair, he’s been sick since I met him,” he pointed out. “There were a few times I smelled something… off. I always assumed it was his aftershave.”

“Thanks,” Will chirped sarcastically and Hannibal nudged his foot with his own in apology.

“Smelled something?” Alana repeated with a curious expression.

“I have an excellent sense of smell,” Hannibal said proudly, arching his back while sipping his coffee. “I can smell that you had what I assume was Lebanese lamb pies for lunch. The soap you use has lavender and honeysuckle in it. Your hand lotion contains cocoa butter, but there are notes of vanilla in it, as well. Your shampoo is rose and hibiscus, and you have an air freshener in your car that smells of a manufacturer’s nauseating attempt at recreating the smell of strawberries.”

“Wow,” she laughed. “That’s a hell of a gift.”

Will contained the flare of jealousy he felt at Hannibal… smelling Alana. Of course, she always smelled nice. He couldn’t help the sting of his pride when he realized that while Alana always smelled like a powder puff, Will usually smelled so terribly that Hannibal couldn’t even smell illness on him until his aftershave had worn off throughout his day.

He was resolved to throw the fucking bottle away as soon as possible.

“It’s useful on occasion,” Hannibal agreed with a polite nod.

“I was thinking that if Will is feeling up to it, we could take him out for dinner,” she said brightly, turning to Will with a wide smile. “You must be sick of sitting around, I bet.”

He was, but that wasn’t exactly the point. She felt like a chaperone, and he was resenting her for it. “I’m, uh, actually fairly tired.”

“It’s no work to sit in the car and let us drive you somewhere for dinner,” she said with a reproachful expression. “Besides that, after this I don’t know when I’ll be able to come up again.”

He glanced at Hannibal, who shrugged. “It might be good for you to take the opportunity to get out of the house. The next time might be Friday, and I imagine you’ll feel quite stir-crazy by then.”

He agreed reluctantly, sitting quietly while Alana and Hannibal talked about work.

She stayed the entire day, and they took Hannibal’s car to a restaurant right on the border of Virginia and Maryland. It was nice to get out of the house, but he also had kind of hoped that he and Hannibal would have some alone time today.

He should know better by now.

Hannibal and Alana each had a glass of wine with their dinner, while Will sipped miserably at his ginger ale. He and Alana were talking about an article they’d read in a psychology journal, and Will wished he’d have just stayed home. He felt like a third wheel on a date, and he knew it was because… well, Hannibal and Alana made perfect sense.

Without meaning to, they were dressed similarly. She was wearing a vibrant red sweater dress, black leggings and tasteful calf-high black boots. Her hair was perfect, her make-up perfect. Subtle little gold earrings on her ears.

Hannibal was also wearing a red sweater, expensive and soft looking, and he’d paired it with black fitted slacks. His hair was also perfect, and the polite interest he held for her while she spoke demonstrated a level of admiration that made Will wish he could come up with something to say.

He swigged his ginger ale as if trying to get a buzz off of it, glancing down at himself with a frown. He should have changed before leaving the house. His cream white sweater had a hole in the hem of it from Max’s paw, and his jeans were worn to the point where they no longer held any stiffness in them at all. He hadn’t shaved, and he knew his hair was curling wildly from the icy wind outside.

He didn’t belong, and the thought caused a pang in him.

He ate his spaghetti and meatballs distractedly when he felt a warm hand cover his own. “What’s wrong, beloved?”

Alana seemed startled by the blatantly affectionate display, and Will shook his head. “Nothing. Just… tired.”

Alana looked sympathetic, while Hannibal looked disbelieving. “You’re terribly quiet,” he prodded.

“Hard to get a word in edgewise,” he replied. “It’s alright. I like listening to… the… uh, paper you were talking about.”

Hannibal sipped his wine absently, and Alana gave him a small smile. “I know you must feel out of the loop. This is probably the longest you’ve been away from work in years.”

He nodded, sliding his hand out from under Hannibal’s to twirl more pasta onto his fork. “I feel distinctly out of the loop. You’re right.”

Conversation dwindled after that, and Will’s appetite left him along with it.

They made their way back to Will’s house, and he sat in the backseat where he could scowl without anyone noticing. Alana’s hand was resting more on Hannibal’s side of the arm rest, and her elbow rested comfortably against Hannibal’s own.

Familiar. Friendly. He glowered harder, staring out the window at the dark trees that whipped past.

He took his dogs out for a bit when they got back, intentionally not inviting anyone back into his house. Alana stood in the snow, shifting her feet to keep the blood moving in them. “See you both Friday?” she asked brightly.

“Yeah,” Will replied, watching his dogs instead of looking at her.

“You leaving too, Hannibal?” she asked. His scowl felt so intense that he doubted his face would ever recover. She was chaperoning them, and it pissed him off to no end.

“In a moment, yes,” he agreed. “I’ll see you Friday. Dinner is at seven.”

He glanced at her, noting her hesitancy. She was cold, and that won out over her desire to supervise them. “I’ll be there. Good night!” she said while turning towards her car.

Hannibal seemed to wait until her alarmingly quiet Prius was out of sight before climbing the steps to the porch where Will was brooding.

“What happened, Will?” he asked softly.

“She was chaperoning us,” he snarled, glancing up at Hannibal’s face briefly before whistling for his dogs to come back. “And… Jesus, I don’t know. I couldn’t get a word in with the two of you at dinner. Do you even realize how perfectly she’d fit into your life?”

“She’s a colleague,” Hannibal pointed out softly. “We have a lot we can talk about, and you seemed perfectly content glowering at me through the duration of our dinner.”

“I have a hole in my sweater,” Will said as if that explained everything. Hannibal arched an eyebrow, glancing down at Will’s jacket as if he could see it through the material. “You don’t want me, Hannibal. You might think you do, but… you don’t.”

“This is jealousy,” Hannibal realized in astonishment. The gentle smile on his face pissed Will off, but before he could retreat into his house, Hannibal wrapped his arms around his waist. “You’ve no reason to be jealous.”

“Don’t I?” Will retorted, losing steam enough that he gripped the lapels of Hannibal’s expensive coat.

“No,” Hannibal sighed. “You don’t. If you had any idea at all about how much I love you, you’d never feel a moment of jealousy again in your life.”

The breath in Will’s lungs left him in an icy whoosh, and he gaped at Hannibal. “You love me.”

“You truly don’t know that?” Hannibal chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Will’s stubbornly set jaw. “After everything?”

“I was jealous because…” he swallowed, glancing up into the intensity of Hannibal’s gaze. “Because I love you, too.”

“You don’t need to say it because I did,” Hannibal said softly, pressing another kiss to Will’s cheek.

Will sighed, easing his cold fingers up to cup the sides of his face. “I told Alana that I loved you on Friday. This wasn’t a new revelation, Hannibal.”

Something about that made Hannibal’s eyes darken, and he leaned forward to capture Will’s mouth in a possessive kiss. His mouth was plundered by Hannibal’s tongue, and Will could taste the faint traces of red wine as well as the sweet taste of him underneath. He pulled away, trailing kisses along Will’s jaw towards his neck.

“All I could think about at dinner was how beautiful you are,” he said between kisses, making Will’s knees feel weak. “The color of your sweater perfectly complimented your skin. The lighting in the restaurant made your eyes look like sapphires, even while you glared daggers at me. You are stunning, and all I wanted in the world was the opportunity to claim you in some way. The waitress was… looking at you, and I wanted to take her eyes from her head.”

“Possessive, Doctor Lecter,” Will chided while grasping his coat in his fingers to drag him backwards towards the door. He got it open with some effort, as Hannibal was sucking a bruise on his neck and grasping his waist tight, grinding against him in a way that set his blood to boiling. His dogs paraded into the house while they stumbled back into it, shucking their coats off the moment the door was closed. “Christ, I’ve wanted this all day,” Will groaned, stepping into Hannibal’s space to yank the coat from his shoulders.

“Is that why you’ve been so irritable?” Hannibal chuckled while tugging Will’s sweater over his head to toss it to the chair.

Will snatched the side of Hannibal’s neck between his teeth, biting him less than gently. The other man moaned, then pulled away enough to yank his own sweater over his head. “I was moody because you were sniffing Alana and beaming at her all day,” he groused, tugging Hannibal back into his space to palm at the heavy erection that was straining in his expensive slacks. “I’ll ask her what brand of shampoo and bar soap she uses, since you fucking like it so much.”

“Will,” Hannibal warned with a gravelly chuckle, and Will gave him a rough shove onto the bed. He looked mildly surprised, but not even remotely upset. Will undid his belt and the buckle of his jeans, sliding them off the moment the zipper was undone. He settled between Hannibal’s thighs, easing himself down to grind against him wantonly. “You’re a jealous thing. I’ve never realized.”

“I have abandonment issues and you are surprised that I am capable of jealousy?” Will asked, leaning forward to capture Hannibal’s mouth in a damp kiss. Hannibal moaned, rocking his hips upward in search of more, and Will leaned back to undo his belt buckle. “You’re going to touch me, Hannibal. I’ll strangle you if you don’t.”

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed, gliding his palms up the length of Will’s thighs. “I plan to.”

Just as he was sliding Hannibal’s pants down his legs, the doorbell rang. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Will sniped. “If that’s Alana, I am killing her.”

Hannibal sat up on the bed, redoing the button on his pants while Will tugged on his jeans haphazardly. He jerked the door open aggressively, and Alana stood on the porch, looking remorseful. “I left my scarf here,” she said apologetically.

Will stared at her while his spine stiffened in an effort not to shiver. Her eyes slid over his half-naked form, and he gestured for her to come into his house. She wasn’t here for a goddamn scarf. She was here to see what they were doing.

Her lips pursed when she noticed Hannibal, half-naked and flushed, a bruise blooming on his throat, still sitting at the edge of his bed. “Was it very crucial that you get the scarf tonight?” Hannibal asked, sitting with as much poise as he would in a three-piece suit.

She shrugged, wrapping it around her neck delicately. “I didn’t think I would be interrupting anything. Weren’t you leaving?”

“He isn’t, but you are,” Will said bluntly, and she pursed her lips while he ushered her out the door. “Goodnight, Alana.”

He closed the door forcefully, and the last image he had was her shocked expression right before the door slammed in her face. He turned to Hannibal, who was scowling. “If she ever loses her day job, she could become a professional cockblock.”

“Crass,” Hannibal sighed. “Yet true.”

Will watched in dismay as Hannibal stood from the bed, reaching for his red sweater on the chair. “You’re leaving?”

“The mood has decidedly passed, has it not?” Hannibal gritted out, snapping his sweater aggressively.

“Are you mad at her, or me?” Will wondered. “I honestly can’t tell right now.”

“I’m angry with her, Will,” he replied in a tone that Will had never heard before. He sounded furious, and Will stepped into his chest to ease his fingers against the sides of his face. The anger in him dimmed, and his eyes softened a bit as he let out a breath. “I will have to speak with her. We are not children, and you are no longer my patient, if you ever were to begin with. You aren’t ill, no one is taking advantage. I won’t allow this nonsense. This was… beyond what I usually tolerate.”

“I’m honestly relieved that you’re mad,” Will chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hannibal’s collarbone before he tried to put his sweater back on. “All I wanted today… all I wanted was to spend the afternoon with you. I wanted you naked in my bed. I wanted your hands on me, your mouth. I wanted a quiet afternoon with you and my dogs. She was only here to babysit, and I knew it the moment she walked in the door.”

Hannibal’s eyes dipped down the line of Will’s torso, appreciating while debating his options. “If I leave, she gets her way,” Hannibal mused. “If I leave… I won’t have your skin against my lips.”

“Now you’re on the right page,” Will laughed.

“I can’t stay the night,” Hannibal sighed between gentle kisses to Will’s neck. His hands snuck between their bodies to undo Will’s jeans, tugging them down his hips. “I wish I could, but I have a patient at eight.”

“I’ll take a half hour of your time,” Will said between kisses while undoing Hannibal’s belt. Again.

They kissed while removing their clothes, this time not bothering to keep their underwear on. Hannibal bumped Will back towards the bed, crawling over him while Will eased back against the pillows. “You want me to touch you,” Hannibal said, trailing kisses down the side of his neck, then his sternum. “My hands and my mouth, if I recall correctly.”

“Yes,” Will sighed, arching his back to press more of his skin against Hannibal’s mouth. “Please, Hannibal.”

Hannibal chuckled darkly, sliding his lips around one of Will’s nipples and giving it a rough suck. His teeth bit down gently, and he flicked the tightening nub with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure rocked through Will at the feeling, and his back bowed in an effort to get Hannibal to keep doing it. He released the abused flesh, sucking it gently between his lips before sliding over to the other to repeat the attention. “I’ll need more than thirty minutes,” he laughed.

Will knew there would be pleasure. Hannibal was the kind of man that didn’t do anything half-assed. He didn’t just cook dinner, he made unbelievably delicious dishes that were visual masterpieces. He sketched so beautifully some of his art would be perfectly at home in a museum. Will never doubted his expertise would roll over into carnal pleasures, too. What he couldn’t have guessed though, was how much pleasure there would be.

Hannibal was all over him. His mouth suckled on his skin while his hands wandered aimlessly all over his body, except the one place he desperately wanted Hannibal to touch. He was greedy with it, squeezing Will’s flesh in his hands, grasping him, trailing his fingertips gently. The flat of his tongue slid against his skin as if sampling the taste of him, and little moans escaped his throat now and again as he found something he liked.

He seemed to like all of it, and the thought made Will laugh.

“Something funny?” Hannibal wondered, licking a broad stripe over his hipbone.

“Never got a tongue bath before,” Will said, still laughing. “Do I taste good?”

One hand gripped the flesh of his thigh, while the other reached up to pluck at a swollen nipple. Will thrust up mindlessly, his cock brushing the underside of Hannibal’s chin. “The scent of you,” Hannibal said lowly, nosing along the curls at the base of his cock. “The taste of your skin. I could drown in you, Will.”

He sat up, grasping Will’s wrist to get him to roll over. Will did so cautiously, wondering just what the hell Hannibal was going to do. Apparently, it was the same thing he’d been doing. He nosed at the curls at the nape of Will’s neck, palming the flesh of his back appreciatively, then followed the path with his tongue. “You have freckles,” Hannibal said in wonder. Will felt him lick them, and he laughed against the pillow.

“Do they taste different?” Will teased, rocking himself gently against the mattress for some relief.

Hannibal stilled his hips, trailing his mouth lower to dip into the curve of his spine. “No,” he said distractedly. He seemed almost drunk, inhaling and licking, palming Will’s body like a wild animal. Will was so fucking turned on he felt like he was about to pass out.

He gripped the back of Will’s thighs, urging him onto his knees. The position made Will’s blush spread down his chest, and he gripped his pillow in his sweaty hands. The view that Hannibal had in that moment was not one that anyone had ever seen, and he felt incredibly self-conscious. “Hannibal,” he pleaded, shifting restlessly on his knees while the other man gripped the flesh of his ass, squeezing it roughly.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asked. His voice was dark and low, a desperation to it that Will had never heard before. “Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined you to be this beautiful.”

He kissed the small of Will’s back chastely, then licked the cleft of his ass, moaning low in his throat. “P-please,” Will sobbed, though he had no idea what the hell he was begging for anymore.

Hannibal licked between his cheeks with the flat of his tongue, pressing wetly against his entrance. His hands let go of Will’s ass as he licked and sucked at the muscle, moving to Will’s sides to cup his hips in his palms.

Will’s vision narrowed out, and he lost the ability to pull in a breath. Pleasure detonated through his body, rolling out through his veins with every press of Hannibal’s tongue. He whined, spreading his thighs wider while rocking back, desperately trying to get more of the sensation.

An appreciative groan came from the man behind him, and Hannibal pressed his tongue just inside of him, sealing his lips over Will’s hole while he fucked into him with a pointed tongue. “God,” Will sobbed, rocking against Hannibal’s face without conscious thought. “Hannibal, please.”

He kept up for what felt like hours. Will had tears in his eyes, and his cock was throbbing to the point where it was causing him pain. His throat hurt from moaning and gritting out desperate noises, and Hannibal hummed contentedly while eating him out.

“Have to come,” he gasped, licking the sweat that had slid down from his cheekbone. “Hannibal, please. Please?”

“Beautiful man,” he sighed, pressing one last kiss to his stretched and sopping rim. “Let me see you, beloved.”

Will rolled over bonelessly, his arms exhausted from holding himself so rigidly during Hannibal’s attentions. He grimaced as all the sweat that had collected along his spine seeped into his mattress, but it was soon forgotten about. Hannibal spread his thighs wider, tugging one of his testicles into his mouth to roll it on the flat of his tongue, then he repeated the attention with the other.

Will watched him, tense and enraptured, as Hannibal licked up the side of his cock. His eyes were dark and intense, watching Will’s eyes only as he took the head of Will’s cock into his mouth.

He sucked it between his lips, laving his outrageously clever tongue against the slit to collect the flavor of Will there, his eyes rolling while a low groan rumbled from his throat. Will’s heart was jackhammering in his chest, and he tentatively laced his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, pressing downwards almost hesitantly.

Hannibal smirked around the girth of him, his eyes flaring with pride, and he went without fuss. His tongue was doing things to the underside of his cock while his mouth maintained perfectly exquisite pressure, and Will dug his toes into the mattress, pumping his hips up into it.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “Oh God, fuck, Hannibal Jesus Christ,” he babbled, and through all of it, Hannibal watched him with intense amusement and pride sparkling in his dark eyes.

His hair fell over his forehead while he slid down the length of Will’s cock, kissing the base with his lips. The head of his cock was nestled into the tight heat of Hannibal’s throat, and Will choked on a moan while grasping Hannibal’s hair desperately. The bed was moving more than it should be, so he glanced down, a bolt of arousal sweeping through him as he realized that Hannibal was jerking himself off, his eyes closed while he sucked Will’s soul from his cock.

A gentle finger rubbed at Will’s damp, loosened entrance, and he writhed on the sheets as it pressed in. Hannibal was… fingering him, and it was all he could do to keep from thrusting hard down his throat. He felt strung tighter than a piano wire, and he was precariously close to snapping.

That solitary finger found his prostate with frightening ease, and the hard rub he gave it made Will’s body go taut with pleasure. “I’m coming,” he blurted fiercely, “H-hannibal, fuck! Fuck!”

His hips snapped brutally, but Hannibal took it without choking. He came in blindingly long waves, his lungs scorched for air while he thrust into the tight heat of Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal kept rubbing at that spot inside of him, and it seemed to drag his orgasm out, his rim clenching hard on Hannibal’s finger.

Eventually the stimulation was too much, but Hannibal seemed to know exactly where that line was, and he backed off almost gently. His finger withdrew from Will’s body while he suckled the head of Will’s cock one last time, pulling away enough to rest his forehead against Will’s hipbone.

“Christ,” Will gasped, sprawling his legs out to either side of Hannibal’s body. He felt limp and unresponsive, his orgasm more intense than anything he’d experienced in his entire life. Hannibal crawled up the side of the bed, settling out against Will’s sweaty torso, and Will tugged him down for a sweaty, filthy, kiss that tasted of come and musk.

He pulled away enough to glance down Hannibal’s body. “Did you need me to…?”

“Already did,” Hannibal chuckled. Will moved his leg, and sure enough, there was a wet spot there. “You tasted incredible. You’re more responsive than I could have ever dreamed. Thank you for this.”

Will laughed, loud and startling in the room, and Hannibal smiled down at him while trailing his fingers across his sweaty abdomen. “You’re thanking me for allowing you to pleasure me to the point where I thought I was dying? Jesus.”

“I’ve wanted it for a long while,” Hannibal explained, his tone soft and honeyed, even though his voice sounded wrecked from Will fucking his throat. “A very long while.”

“Did I…” Will reached out, stroking his fingers gently against the side of his neck. “Did I hurt you? My brain was off. It’s no excuse, but-”

“Will,” he sighed, leaning forward to collect another chaste kiss. “You did not. It was perfect.”

They cuddled for a few minutes, but Hannibal was wiggling on the sweaty sheets enough that Will knew he wasn’t pleased about it. They climbed from the bed, each getting redressed enough to help one another change the sheets. Again.

Once his new sheets were on and the dirty ones were washing, Hannibal glanced at the clock. “You should have taken your evening meds twenty minutes ago,” he noted, making Will roll his eyes.

“Yes dear,” Will replied drolly, tucking Hannibal close by wrapping his arms around his waist. He pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s throat, and Hannibal tipped his face up, searching for a better kiss that Will gave him eagerly.

Hannibal pulled away eventually, his eyes closed, and his face blissed out. Will loved that look on him, and he leaned forward to press another kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to come during the week,” he admitted softly, opening his eyes to stroke his fingers through Will’s curls. “Jack has been relying on me in your absence, and he calls me endlessly. I think that your resignation will not be the only one he receives on Friday.”

“His whole life is his work,” Will agreed softly. “He doesn’t understand when others don’t want it to be.”

“I won’t concede to him to avoid his temper,” Hannibal chuckled. “Unlike the crew in which he surrounds himself.”

“It’s okay if you can’t make it,” Will assured him. “It’s only four days, and I can keep myself busy.”

“I’m sure you can, but I truly wish you wouldn’t,” Hannibal sighed. “Relax. Don’t push yourself.”

“Right,” Will agreed reluctantly, and Hannibal pulled away to head for his coat.

Chapter Text

The following week dragged by at a snail’s pace. The only meal he had to actually cook for himself was breakfast, as his lunches and dinners were still stacked reasonably high in his freezer. He was bored enough that he tackled giving each of his dogs a bath during the week, filing down their nails so that they weren’t scratching him anymore. He cleaned his house from top to bottom, going through his clothes and getting rid of everything that was faded or had holes in them.

He took his dogs for walks that grew a little longer each day, as his head didn’t make him feel dizzy as much as the week wore on. Alana called him twice, asking if he needed anything or if he wanted to get out of the house for a few hours, and he declined both.

He knew her company would come with a scolding, and he really wasn’t in the mood for it.

Hannibal texted him a few times during the week as well, though they were mostly medication reminders and to see how he was feeling. Texting was clearly not his forte, and Will held no grudges that they weren't more in depth.

His closet looked practically empty once he was done with it, and he debated asking if Hannibal would mind stopping at a clothing store on Friday. He decided against it, as anywhere that Hannibal took him would definitely be out of his price range.

He woke up Friday morning to his phone ringing, and he reached out for it without checking who was calling. “H’lo?”

“Beloved,” Hannibal sighed. Will smiled exhaustedly, rubbing a hand across his stubbled face. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Will croaked, and Hannibal chuckled. “What time is it?”

“Nine,” Hannibal supplied. “You’re sleeping much better, I take it?”

“Yeah,” he agreed while stretching under his warm blankets. “Have you been busy this week?”

“I spent every evening after my patient appointments at the BAU,” he said miserably. “I plan to speak with Jack about that tonight.”

“Are there that many cases?” Will wondered as guilt crept in.

“No,” Hannibal replied, though it sounded unsure. “No more than usual. He had me go to the BSHCI to speak with a patient, one who claimed to be the Ripper. He is not. I’ve gone twice to speak with him, and Alana and I are in agreement that he is not the Ripper, though Chilton wishes it to be true.”

“Of course he does,” Will chuckled. “He’d love that kind of attention.”

“I feel that he’s persuading this man to believe himself the Ripper,” Hannibal admitted. “There is no proof, but… I don’t trust him.”

“Does he fit the profile?” Will asked.

“He does,” Hannibal said tentatively, though there was an edge to his voice. “If you met him, you’d understand my hesitancy. He knows details of the scenes, but… only what Chilton would know, as he was the one who consulted on those cases. He can’t tell you why he chose his victims, nor where he saw them for the first time. There are holes in his story, yet Jack wants it to be the truth nearly as much as Chilton.”

“So we’re both letting Jack down today,” Will realized guiltily. “And then we get to hint that we’re in a relationship, and it’s going to set him off, Hannibal.”

“We don’t need to share that with him if you don’t wish to,” Hannibal replied. “It’s truly none of his business.”

“If you think for one second that Alana hasn’t already given him a heads up, then you’re not paying attention,” Will laughed. “So you’ve spent time with her this week.”

“Yes,” Hannibal admitted. “I spoke with her, also. She apologized, but… it felt insincere.”

“I can’t thank you enough for inviting me tonight,” Will said with false enthusiasm. “It’s going to be such a nice time.”

“It’s a conversation that needs to happen, Will,” he replied dryly. “It will be brief, and then you and I will have the evening to ourselves.”

“That does sound nice,” Will smiled. “What time are you coming for me?”

“Soon,” Hannibal admitted immediately. “I was calling to tell you that I’d like to get you at noon. I’ve missed you.”

“I guess I should get up then,” Will chuckled. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Remember to pack your medications,” Hannibal reminded him gently. “And leashes for the dogs. All you’ll need otherwise is clothing.”

“Got it,” Will replied, still stretching his aching muscles on the bed. “See you soon, darlin’.”

There was an appreciative hum over the line, and Will knew that the endearment pleased him. “Soon,” he agreed.

Will rummaged through his closet, grunting at the incredibly few items he had that actually weren’t in bad shape. His formal button downs were pristine, but that was mostly because he didn’t wear them. He took a forest green one from the closet, twisting his lips down at it while trying to figure out if it was nice or not.

It was a shirt. Will didn’t have eyes for it in any other sense. He wanted to look… nice. He knew Jack would wear a suit from work. He knew Alana always looked impeccable.

Hannibal didn’t look rumpled even after blowing Will’s brains out, so he was hyper aware that he would also be dressed formally.

This shirt was the nicest that he owned, so he set it aside and paired it with his black slacks. His only black slacks. He really did need to go shopping.

He took his time in the shower, cleaning himself thoroughly with the rapidly dwindling bar soap that Hannibal had given him. Once out, he towel dried his hair and then fussed with it, parting it to the side and twisting his curls around his fingers so they fell in deliberate waves over his forehead. His beard was growing mangey again, so he trimmed it back with his electric trimmer, then fixed the lines with a razor blade until it looked neat and tidy.

He looked better than good once he was dressed in his green button down.

The rest of his morning was spent feeding his dogs and drinking a cup of coffee with his meds, before he heard the tell-tale crunch of gravel under tires.

His dogs perked up, some barking while waiting by the door in their excitement. He swung the door open before Hannibal even got to the steps, his dogs dashing out the door to attack him. “Max! No jumping!” he bellowed, clapping his hands to get the large dog’s attention. He backed off, looking chastised. Hannibal bent to pet them, their tails wagging aggressively while hopping around his legs. “I think they’re happier to see you than me at this point.”

Hannibal shot him a playful look, patting Winston on his hip while the dog licked his face. “You look happy to see me, as well,” he mused, coming back up from his knee to head up the porch steps. His dogs frolicked off, some running through the yard, others going to pee on tufts of grass that peeked through the snow.

Will smiled wider, tugging him forward by the lapels of his jacket to press a kiss to his mouth. Hannibal wrapped him in his arms, deepening the kiss while gently lacing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Will’s neck. “You’re a vision,” Hannibal sighed once he pulled away, tracing his eyes over Will’s hair, then his face with blatant admiration. “How on earth am I to keep my hands to myself tonight.”

Will blushed, tipping his head down to hide it. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t.”

“I meant through dinner,” Hannibal chuckled, fingertips still tugging at the curls at Will’s neck.

“And I said I hoped you wouldn’t,” Will teased, leaning forward again to press his mouth against Hannibal’s. His lips were petal soft, the flavor of him heady and sweet. He wasn’t as dressed up as Will imagined he would be, but he figured that was because Hannibal would get ready later on. This gray sweater and slacks were not what he would be wearing tonight. Will knew him enough to know that, at least.

Hannibal suckled his bottom lip, pulling a moan from Will’s mouth before he pulled away again. “I hate to rush you, but we should be going soon. I haven’t started cooking yet.”

Will blinked at him. “It’s… twelve-thirty,” he said dumbly. “Isn’t dinner at seven?”

“I am making a rack of lamb,” Hannibal said with a nod. “I’ll need some time to prepare it.”

“Okay,” Will conceded. “Let me get an old blanket for your backseat. I don’t want them destroying your car.”

Hannibal nodded, following Will in the house to gather the few things he had packed. He handed his shoulder bag to Hannibal, who took it with an amused expression on his face. “Is this all you’ll need?”

“My meds, Ellie’s supplement, their leashes, and a change of clothes,” Will listed off. “What else?”

“That’s all you need, beloved,” Hannibal replied softly, distracted by Max who was endlessly demanding his attention.

Will dug out an old comforter for the backseat, and then they headed to Baltimore.

His dogs were absolutely rat packed into the backseat, but they didn’t seem to mind all that much. They seemed excited to be doing something new, and Will understood their enthusiasm entirely.

Without thought, Will reached out and diddled with the radio, humming when he found his station that he liked. Classic rock, and they just happened to be playing Led Zeppelin. He sat back in the seat, singing softly to himself, and he felt eyes on him.

He turned his head, blushing at the expression on Hannibal’s face. He looked equal parts amused and indignant, and Will fidgeted. “Sorry. I don’t know why I just… you can listen to whatever you want.”

“It’s fine, Will,” he chuckled. His warm hand reached over the console to grip Will’s, lacing their fingers together. “Strange thing to realize, but… no one has ever been comfortable enough in my presence to do such a thing. I like that you are.”

“You like that I’m comfortable enough around you to commandeer your radio?” Will laughed. “That’s… sweet, Hannibal. But if you don’t like this, it’s fine. We can change it.”

“I have no issues with Led Zeppelin,” he chuckled, drawing Will’s eyes to him in surprise. “What? I know who they are, Will. I lived in France when they were… most popular.”

“You moved to France?” Will asked. “From Lithuania?”

Hannibal nodded. “After my parents and my sister were killed… I stayed in an orphanage for two years. My Uncle Robertas and my Aunt Murasaki adopted me once they were tracked down. They lived in France, so I moved there to live with them.”

“Was it a car accident?” Will asked softly, and Hannibal squeezed his hand tighter while shaking his head.

“Home invasion,” he replied, his voice soft and breathy. The shock of his words seeped in, and he realized that Hannibal had survived something monumentally horrifying. He lost his entire family to a home invasion, and it was likely that whoever killed them did it in front of him. He could understand why Hannibal kept people at arm’s length, now. He could also understand why he didn’t speak of it with anyone.

“Did you know your aunt and uncle before you went to live with them?” Will wondered.

He shook his head again. “My uncle and my father had a falling out decades before. He wasn’t thrilled to have a teenager that looked just like his brother living in his house. My aunt was very kind, though. They had a chef that lived on the property, and he was very kind, too. I learned a lot from him, as he showed me techniques that he’d learned in culinary school. I only spent a few years in their home, as I was sent to boarding school in Italy shortly after arriving there.”

Will watched him speak, taking in the flicker of pain on his face while he talked about his history. He didn’t know much about boarding school, but what he knew of it was that it was a cold and remote way of learning. It kept you from being raised by parents and instilled a sense of propriety in children that was uncommon in others. “I heard that you excelled in art there,” Will recalled from a conversation he’d heard between Alana and Jack. “That you were noticed by John’s Hopkins because of anatomical drawings that you drew.”

Hannibal chuckled. “The boarding school found my work to be quite disturbing, but they couldn’t deny that my sketches were thorough. I moved to America to attend Hopkins, and I don’t regret the decision in the least.”

“I don’t either,” Will agreed, squeezing his hand gently to convey his meaning. Hannibal smiled, bringing Will’s hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Have you spoken to your aunt and uncle since?”

His mouth twitched, and he sighed. “No. I scared them, Will. I was very different then, and… the things that I had seen and survived had weighed on me. I was mute for a few years, and I had spectacular night terrors. I don’t blame them for sending me away.”

The thought of Hannibal being disregarded because he was traumatized made Will want to strangle them both, even though he’d never met them. His mouth tightened, thinking about a teenage Hannibal who was clearly suffering, and two people who didn’t care at all.

“I don’t resent them,” Hannibal said, glancing at Will carefully. “I don’t, Will.”

“Well I do,” he sighed. “You deserved some understanding, Hannibal. You deserved a hell of a lot more than the shit you were dealt, and I am so sorry that you suffered like that.” Surprising tears welled in his eyes, and he shifted in the seat to look away out the window. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, swiping at them absently.

Hannibal sighed, swiping his thumb against the back of his hand. “Are you picking up my feelings right now, beloved?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, taking in a calming breath. “It’s alright, though. You can share them with me.”

“It… hurt to be disregarded when I was at my most vulnerable,” Hannibal finally admitted. His emotions and words finally matched up, and Will swallowed thickly. “Now that I’m older, I can understand why they did what they did. I perhaps needed a therapist, but… that wasn’t something an old Lithuanian monarch and a Japanese heiress would have considered.”

“Is that why you changed professions?” Will wondered.

“I wanted to help others recover from traumas like I had endured,” he agreed. “However, I mostly treat wealthy people who cry about their spouse’s affairs and complain that they weren’t invited to parties. I’ve… drifted from what I wanted in my life.”

“You’ve helped me,” Will said softly, turning in his seat to look at Hannibal’s face. There was a flicker of emotion there, barely anything at all, but with Hannibal it said volumes. “If you don’t feel reassured about anything else, know that you’ve impacted me. I think I had a one-way ticket to the mental hospital, and you… pulled me from that darkness. I’m certain there are others that you’ve helped in the same way, even if you don’t know it.”

“How I ended up with someone so perfectly good is beyond me,” Hannibal sighed. He pressed another kiss to Will’s knuckles, holding his hand tightly against his chest. “Thank you, Will.”

“I know that wasn’t easy to share with me,” Will acknowledged. “I appreciate that you did.”

“It was easy to share it with you,” Hannibal replied softly. “I want you to know me. To see me.”

“I do,” Will assured him, squeezing his fingers where they still rested against Hannibal’s chest. “I do.”

The rest of the drive was mostly silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Getting his dogs in Hannibal’s house was a bit of work. They resisted a bit, as if Will was taking them to the vet’s office instead of a friend’s house. They eventually went inside, and Will took a relieved breath in the foyer. “They’re not used to visiting people,” he chuckled. “I don’t bring them anywhere with me like this.”

“It’s good you brought them then,” Hannibal mused. “Seeing as how I’ll be caring for them occasionally.”

“Do you want to wrangle them somewhere specific?” Will asked, glancing around at his sprawling home. “They’ll wander, and I’m not sure I want them to do that.”

“I’ll close off some doors,” Hannibal replied. “Otherwise leave them be.”

Hannibal took off to close doors to different rooms, and Will watched them warily. They seemed content to sniff around the foyer and living room for now, but he knew once they felt secure, they’d take over the house. Max was the first one to feel comfortable enough to roam, and Will had an idea that was because the whole house smelled like Hannibal, who he loved dearly. He followed him around, watching him closely while he sniffed the carpet and chair. “Will you be following them throughout the house?” Hannibal chuckled.

Will startled, turning to find Hannibal watching him from the doorway of the living area. “I don’t trust them,” he confessed. “I don’t have anything breakable or priceless in my house, and I don’t want them to… ruin anything.”

“Everything breakable and priceless is out of their reach,” Hannibal assured him. “I am not concerned, and you shouldn’t be either. Come help me in the kitchen, please.”

Will blanched. “You want me to help you?”

“If you’d like to, yes,” he smirked.

“I don’t have any training as a chef,” he said slowly, making Hannibal chuckle.

“Regardless, I think you can handle peeling potatoes,” he teased. “Unless you’re tired? If you need to rest, I can-”

“I’m fine,” Will interjected. “Not tired or anything else.”

Will followed him into his kitchen where Hannibal immediately began taking things out that they’d need to cook. Will got his own cutting board and knife, as well as a vegetable peeler. A few dogs wandered into the room, and Will snapped his fingers, making their tails drift between their legs as they backed out.

“They’re well-trained,” Hannibal remarked while placing a bag of potatoes in front of Will.

“They don’t go in the kitchen,” Will said distractedly, watching the doorway for any more brave dogs that wanted to test their limits. “They don’t know this is the kitchen, here.”

Winston’s head peeked into the room, his dejected face pleading with Will to let him come in. Will shook his head at him, pointing away from the room, and Winston huffed while wandering off. “Good dogs,” Hannibal chuckled.

He came over to Will hesitantly, gripping a chunk of white fabric in his fist. Will arched an eyebrow at him while he put the apron over his head, tugging Will much closer than necessary to tie it around his waist.

Will blushed, smearing a kiss against his cheek as he pulled away. “Cute of you,” he teased.

The sparkle in his eyes while he donned his own let Will know he appreciated the sass.

“What am I doing with the potatoes?” Will asked while washing his hands at the sink.

“Peel them,” Hannibal replied. “Rinse them, and then we can mandolin them for scalloped potatoes.”

Will had no damned idea what mandolin meant, but he understood peel and rinse. He got to work, his eyes watching Hannibal occasionally while he ground herbs and spices in a mortar. They worked in silence together for the better part of an hour, and Will finally understood that ‘mandolin’ meant slicing potatoes thinly with a scary razorblade contraption. He did so carefully, keeping his fingers away from the blade the best he could.

Hannibal made dessert while Will sliced the potatoes. Some kind of bread pudding in little ramekins. He set them in the oven, then began whipping heavy cream and powdered sugar for a whipped cream topping.

Will understood now why he needed hours to prepare for a dinner, even though it still seemed excessive. He had quite the pile of sliced potatoes by the time he was finished, and he smiled proudly at them while Hannibal chuckled. “Get them into that big bowl there,” Hannibal gestured. “Iced water should cover them. Loosen them up with your fingers to get the excess starches off the slices.”

Will nodded, setting about to the task. Once they were rinsed and sitting in an ice bath, he looked to Hannibal for further instruction. “Give them a few minutes to soak, and then you can drain them and dry them.”

Dry them? Will grimaced but nodded his head. He checked on his dogs in the meantime, and they were all resting in the living room. None looked like that had done anything untoward, and he headed back to the kitchen.

Once the potatoes were drying on a cotton towel, Hannibal got out a cast iron Dutch oven as well as a stainless-steel pot. “Now you’ll make a roux,” he said, gesturing towards the stove like he intended Will to just… know.

“If I had any idea what that meant, I would do it,” Will laughed.

“I’ll help you,” Hannibal assured him. He waved Will over to the stove where a whisk, flour, butter, and milk were waiting for him.

“Get the saucepan on medium heat,” he said, moving behind Will to hold his waist. He was distractingly close, his hand warm against Will’s hip. He did as he was told, and Hannibal reached around him to lower the heat a bit. “Butter in the pan,” he continued.

“All of it?” Will asked, looking at the stick in surprise.

“All of it,” Hannibal agreed.

Will unwrapped the stick of butter and placed it in the pan, and they watched the stick melt slowly. Gentle fingers stroked his side while it melted, and Will’s blood pressure went up in response. Hannibal reached out and added a few cloves of garlic that had been smashed, as well as a pinch of nutmeg. “We’ll scoop the garlic cloves out once the sauce has come together.”

Eventually, the butter was bubbling, and Hannibal gestured towards the flour jar. “Start with three tablespoons of flour. You’re going to whisk it into the melted butter.”

Will added the flour while Hannibal scented the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there appreciatively. His whole body broke out in goosebumps, and he shivered while leaning back into Hannibal’s chest more fully. “How’s that?” Will asked, looking down at the clumpy bits of butter and flour.

Hannibal glanced into the pan over Will’s shoulder and shook his head. “Another tablespoon of flour. The mixture should be almost dry.” Hannibal’s hand that had been resting on his hip slid around him, sliding up the length of his belly and sternum.

Will nodded distractedly, adding another, and whisking away. It started to stick a bit to the bottom of the pan, and Hannibal hummed. “Now we’re going to add milk. Half a cup at a time, whisking it in until it’s creamy.”

It took longer than he’d thought, and it was much more tiring than he initially believed it would be. Eventually he had a pan full of thickened milk, and he didn’t know what to do with it. “Now we add cheese,” Hannibal said proudly, pressing one last kiss to the side of Will’s throat.

He turned and got a bowl of freshly shredded cheese, a few different kinds from the look of it, and placed it by the stove. “Add it in a bit at a time, whisking the entire time.”

Will did as instructed, and the sauce started to come together. Will wanted to dip bread into it and eat it just like that, but no such luck. Once they were finished, they dug the two garlic cloves out, and Hannibal showed him how to assemble the potatoes.

Layers of cheese sauce and thinly sliced potato went down in the Dutch oven until there were no more potatoes to layer. The rest of the sauce went over it, and Will beamed at his creation. “It’ll go in the oven at 350 for an hour, and then we can uncover it and put a final layer of cheese that we’ll broil to get it browned.”

“I made this,” Will said with a chuckle, and Hannibal kissed his cheek.

“You did,” he agreed with a humored hum. “It’s going to be delicious, Will.”

They got it into the oven, and Will helped him clean up the piles of dirty dishes that had accrued while they cooked. It was after five by the time they finished, and Hannibal glanced at the clock. “I’m going to get ready for tonight. Do you mind taking the potatoes out of the oven at quarter of?”

Will nodded, and Hannibal kissed him chastely before heading upstairs. Everything was cooking, and it smelled incredible already.

He checked on his dogs again, and knew he’d need to take them out before Jack and Alana showed up. He took the potatoes out of the oven at quarter of six and set them on the stove top just as Hannibal came down the stairs. He was wearing a slate gray suit with a bold red plaid pattern on it. His blazer was resting over his forearm. His red button down was a vibrant color, his shirt sleeves rolled up crisply. His tie made no sense to Will, but he wasn’t the kind of person who’d pair plaid and paisley together. Hannibal got away with it, though. He donned an apron and set about to finishing their meal.

“If you’ve got this, I’m going to take the dogs for a walk before people get here.”

Hannibal gave him a curt nod, reaching behind himself to wrap his apron ties around his waist, but Will stepped in and took over for him. Hannibal looked… interested by it, watching Will tie off the strings around his ridiculously narrow waist. Will wanted to strip him down and…

He let that wandering thought simmer, but he slid his hands over Hannibal’s hips and dragged him in for a kiss. Hannibal smiled against his mouth, tilting his head to deepen it. He rocked against Will, and the stray thought of stripping him down came back with vengeance.

Hannibal pulled away, licking his lips with a flush on his sharp cheekbones while Will felt him up through the apron. “Go walk your dogs,” he said lowly, his voice smoldering as much as his eyes were.

Will nodded, stepping away reluctantly. “Wish me luck. I’ve never walked all seven with leashes before this.”

Hannibal laughed, turning away to check on his roast in one of the other ovens.

Walking them didn’t turn out to be all that difficult. He picked up after all of them, walking them slowly throughout the neighborhood. A few neighbors looked surprised to see someone with seven dogs, and he would bet money that they thought he was a professional dog walker.

He looked down at his hands that were being pulled in various directions by seven unruly dogs. Maybe not quite a professional, but still.

Twenty minutes later he was heading back into the house, the scents of good food permeating the air. He unleashed them, then went to wash his hands in the bathroom sink before returning to Hannibal.

He was setting the table with painstaking attention to detail, a morbid little arrangement on the table that had dreary flowers and feathers sticking out of it. He looked up as Will came into the room, a pleased little smile on his mouth. “It’s nice hearing you come in the door with them,” he said softly. “I love that you’re here, Will.”

He blushed, glancing away briefly to hide it. “What can I do to help you?”

Hannibal adjusted a perfect place setting, gesturing towards the kitchen. “It may be cruel to ask seeing as how you cannot partake, but there’s a bottle of red wine on the counter. If you don’t mind opening it for me, it needs some time to breathe.”

Will nodded, heading off towards the kitchen to do as he was asked. The potatoes were out of the oven, perfectly golden and delicious. Will felt a swell of pride that he’d made them while opening the bottle of wine, setting it down to breathe before walking over to the stove to snoop.

The rack of lamb was resting on the counter, a piece of foil tented over it while it rested. There were perfectly roasted asparagus spears that were still steaming from the oven when the doorbell rang.

He heard Alana’s voice, bright and cheerful from the foyer, and he washed the few dishes that had accumulated in the sink while he was walking his dogs.

Alana came into the kitchen with Hannibal, beaming brightly. Her smile faltered a bit at the sight of Will being domestic in Hannibal’s home, but she recovered quickly. “Hey Will,” she greeted warmly.

“Hi,” he replied while shutting off the sink and drying the area around it with a towel. “I made the potatoes.”

She arched an eyebrow, glancing at the pan on the stove while Hannibal chuckled. He moved around the island to where Will was standing, leaning into him to press a kiss to his throat. “He did,” he agreed softly.

Will leaned into him a bit, pink and pleased, while Alana carefully averted her eyes elsewhere. Will didn’t care if she felt uncomfortable. Still, he broached the topic cautiously. “Sorry I booted you out on Sunday,” he said slowly. “I uh…”

“Was in the middle of something?” she said just as carefully.

He blushed and nodded, and Hannibal kissed his cheek for good measure. “Why don’t the two of you head into the living room? I’ll finish up in here, and dinner will be ready shortly.”

Will kind of wanted to kill him for shoving him off with her, but he nodded.

The doorbell rang again, and Will was closest, so he headed for the door while Alana drifted into the living room. Jack stood on the other side, looking surprised that Will had answered Hannibal’s door. “Will,” he said with a nod. “You’re looking better.”

He stepped into the house, ditching his coat in the foyer. “I feel much better,” he agreed. “I didn’t realize how sick I was, or how long I’d felt that way.”

Buster came into the foyer to see what all the noise was about, and Jack went still. “Did Doctor Lecter get a dog?”

Winston popped his head in too, and Will sighed. He could hear Alana cooing at the others in the living room, and Jack stepped around Will to see what was going on. His mouth fell open when he realized that Hannibal’s living room was littered with dogs, and he turned to Will with his eyebrows drawn. “Were they invited to dinner, too?”

Will shifted his feet, petting Winston absently while Jack stared at Alana for answers. “They’re here because… uh,” he cleared his throat.

“Will is staying the night,” Alana finished inelegantly. “It’s a long drive to Wolf Trap, and he can’t drive yet. It’s just easier, Jack.”

Jack’s thunderous expression cleared, and he nodded. “I always leave here having drank just a bit too much,” he confessed. “Why you live in the boonies, I’ll never understand.” Winston wandered over to Jack, who pet him with a smile on his face. “Hey Winston.”

Will glanced at Alana, conveying his thanks with his face alone, and she smiled gently at him while petting Zoe.

Maybe she wasn’t all bad.

Hannibal appeared in the doorway; apron replaced with his smart-fitting blazer. “Good evening, Jack,” he greeted politely. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you upon arrival, I had my hands a bit full.”

“It’s fine, Doctor,” he replied, smiling politely. “It smells wonderful. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Anytime,” Hannibal said with a warm smile. “Dinner is almost ready. If you’ll all take a seat, I’ll be out in a moment. Will, if you’d like to feed your dogs, there’s a pan of food in the fridge for them.”

Will fed his dogs quickly, retreating to the foyer to get his shoulder bag for his own meds as well as Ellie’s. He took a dish towel from the counter for Zoe, as he knew she would make a mess when she ate. He fed them in the foyer where the room was at least tiled for easy clean up if there were… spills.

He watched them eat for a few minutes, making sure no one was a jerk about stealing food before he retreated to the dining room. Will sat in the same seat as last time, and Jack sat opposite him. Alana sat to Will’s side, glancing at the spread on the table already. “You’ve got to talk to him,” she said conspiratorially, leaning into Will’s side. “Try and get him to be less formal about his dinner parties. Do something wild and have a pizza night.”

Will snorted, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. “That’s as unlikely as Hannibal hosting a party that’s buffet style. It’ll never happen.”

“I personally like it,” Jack interjected. “He was raised well. People don’t host dinners like this anymore, and it’s a shame.”

Alana sighed. “Still, maybe you can convince him to have people over, but for a less formal setting? It would be nice to come for dinner and spend time with him. He’s always back and forth from the kitchen.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Will laughed. “Doubt it’ll happen, though.”

Hannibal emerged from the kitchen with four plates balanced on his arms, setting down a beautiful salad in front of each of them before taking his own seat. “Bon Appetit,” he said with a wave of his hand.

The three of them had red wine in their glasses, while Will had an iced water and a ginger ale at his setting. He sighed, looking forward to being done with his medications so he could have a glass of wine with his dinner again.

“I want to thank you for stepping in and helping us in Will’s absence,” Jack said after a bite of his salad.

“While it’s been no imposition,” Hannibal said carefully, raising his wine glass to scent it before taking a sip. “I’m afraid I must tell you that I am not interested in continuing. I have next to no personal time, and I’m sorry to tell you that this week will be my last week consulting.”

“That works out,” Jack replied, nodding his head in understanding. “Because this is Will’s last week recovering, right?”

Will put his fork down while finishing his bite, staring resolutely down at the table. “I have an appointment on Monday to see if I can return to work the following week,” he admitted. “However, I’ve been thinking about it, Jack, and I don’t think consulting was good for me.”

“But you were good for it,” Jack replied, nonplussed. “The work you do is appreciated.”

Will shook his head with a sigh, raising his eyes to Jack’s own. “I haven’t had a night terror since I’ve stopped. I’m sleeping through the night. My anxiety used to be so bad that I could barely eat, and that’s gone, too. I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry, Jack. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but…”

“You’re quitting,” Jack realized, dropping his fork to his plate. “The both of you are backing out.”

“Hannibal has a full-time profession,” Alana countered. “And Will… he should never have been brought on in the first place. You’ve known this, Jack. I know you know it.”

“So this was an invite to dinner to tell me that I officially don’t have a profiler,” Jack mused, sipping his wine ruefully. “How will you feel knowing that there are cases that aren’t being solved all because you won’t help?” he asked, tipping his head at Will.

“You have other profilers,” Will replied evenly. “You’ve done just fine without my help all these years. Do you realize that I close cases because I let those killers into my head? I become them, Jack. It was taking a toll on me and I didn’t even know it.”

“Maybe your night terrors and anxiety were due to sickness?” Jack wondered, and Hannibal shook his head.

“His illness certainly exacerbated his symptoms, but what he saw and what he did weighed on him. I’ve spoken to you about this, and I know that Alana has as well,” Hannibal pointed out.

Jack sat back in his seat, rubbing absently at his temple. “There’s no convincing you otherwise?”

Will shook his head, stabbing at a radish on his plate. “I’m sorry, but no. When I return to work, it’ll be at a teaching post only.”

Silence descended over the table, and no one ate another bite until Jack sighed. “You’ll be missed.”

Will smiled, lifting the radish to his mouth.

The main course was served shortly afterwards, and Will beamed down at his little pile of potatoes. “Will made the potatoes,” Alana grinned, and Hannibal chuckled.

“He did,” he agreed, raising his wine glass to clink it against Will’s ginger ale.

It was then that he noticed them.

Little square cufflinks made of gold on Hannibal’s sleeve. He swallowed thickly, following the movement of his wrist as he rested it against the table.

LELO.

His mouth fell open, and he darted his eyes around the table to see if he was hallucinating a stag somewhere in the room. He was not.

Hannibal was laughing about something that Jack said, and he noticed the little flush on Hannibal’s face.

The way he rocked ever-so-gently in his seat.

His eyes traveled back to the cufflinks, and they were still there. LELO.

He swigged his ginger ale while a sheen of sweat rolled over his body. He ate his dinner absently, drifting his eyes over to Hannibal’s wrists now and again. They were still there. No matter how hard he wished they weren’t, they were still there. His cock ached in his slacks, and Hannibal shot him a curious expression. He could smell Will, and the fact of that alone had Will shifting in his own seat uncomfortably.

Jack’s booming laugh brought him back to the table, and he tried to focus on the conversation around him. “The wife was so mad that she killed him with a house plant. I’d never seen anything so crazy in my life.”

“I’m sure you see all manner of unbelievable things,” Hannibal agreed, flicking his eyes to Will’s intriguingly, still scenting the air discretely enough that Will squirmed in his chair.

“Homicide sees weirder stuff than we do,” Jack conceded after a bite of lamb. “We only get the difficult cases. Will worked homicide in New Orleans when he was a cop. I’m sure you’ve seen some weird cases.”

Will nodded numbly, bringing his last bite of potatoes to his mouth that didn’t seem to taste like anything. The cufflinks were still gleaming on Hannibal’s wrist, and he swallowed his potatoes absently while a flare of arousal burned through him.

This wasn’t a hallucination. It never had been. Hannibal liked hosting dinner parties while he had a plug in his ass. The revelation made Will feel fucking bold. “There was a case,” he said slowly, flicking his eyes to Hannibal’s briefly. “I’m not sure it’s dinner conversation.”

“Please,” Alana laughed. “We’ve all seen some things. No one here will be offended.”

Will nodded, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “There was a lawyer,” he recalled while swirling his ginger ale in his cup. “Rich guy, lots of people who hated him. Found his body on the sidewalk by his practice. He’d been mugged, and it went poorly. Wallet, cufflinks, watch, and wedding ring all stolen. When they were doing the autopsy, they found… a plug inside of him. Gold. We looked up the brand, and it turned out that the plug went with a set of gold cufflinks with the brand name printed on them. That’s how we caught his killer. We put an APB on all area pawn shops, and we caught the guy when he tried to pawn them.”

“You solved a case with a…” Jack stalled out, raising his eyebrows. “Butt plug?”

Will nodded, watching from the corner of his eye as Hannibal went stock-still, lowering his wrists to below the tabletop. “Weirdest way I’ve ever caught a killer.”

“It was gold?” Alana asked in disbelief.

“Three thousand dollars,” Will explained, glancing pointedly at Hannibal who had gone pale. “It came as a set with the cufflinks. His wife tried to say that the killer put it there to shame him.”

Jack laughed, sipping his wine and shaking his head. “Sometimes I miss homicide.”

“Would anyone like dessert?” Hannibal asked thickly, and everyone nodded.

He stood from the table, taking he and Jack’s plate with him, and Will stood, too. “I’ll help you,” he offered.

He took his own plate as well as Alana’s, and she and Jack talked as they left the room. Hannibal set the plates down at the sink, turning to Will with a guarded expression while Will ditched the plates in his hand to come around the counter. He stepped into Hannibal’s space, pressing him against the cabinets while pressing his hand against Hannibal’s ass. “I thought I was hallucinating last time,” he said lowly, tugging the skin of Hannibal’s neck into his mouth. “I thought I was crazy, because who the hell would believe that Count Doctor Hannibal Lecter the Eighth hosts dinner parties while stimulating his prostate at the table?”

Hannibal moaned as Will pressed down against the seam of his slacks, rubbing his fingers there. Sure enough, there was something wedged between his cheeks, and he grunted while rocking his erection against Hannibal’s thigh. “I thought about what it would be like to tease you with it,” Will continued lowly, his breath hitching while Hannibal groaned low in his throat. “Tug it from your clenching body, let it settle back against you while pressing it tighter against that spot inside of you,” he drawled.

Hannibal rocked against his hand, pressing his own erection against Will’s hip. “You’ve known this whole time?” he said in breathless disbelief.

“I didn’t believe it,” Will admitted. “But it’s still something I think about. Often.” He rubbed at the handle that was wedged there, pressing down on it firmly while Hannibal moaned. “Now I have to sit with my former mentor and boss and a woman that had feelings for each of us, while rock hard and aching for you.”

Hannibal gasped, pressing back on Will’s hand as well as rocking forward to grind against Will’s hip. “Will please,” he groaned, and Will slid his hand into the back of his pants without thought.

There was no room to move, but he grasped the warm metal of the plug, shifting it down, then tugging it gently. Not enough to pull it out, but just enough to put pressure on his rim. Hannibal made a low sound like he was being gutted, and Will sucked a kiss against his jaw. Hannibal tilted his face, capturing Will’s lips in a brutal kiss. Teeth nipped at his lips while Hannibal’s tongue sampled his mouth. Will pressed down against the metal, and Hannibal sucked his tongue while a moan rumbled in his chest.

He withdrew his arm, adjusting Hannibal’s blazer so it fell perfectly again before stepping away. Hannibal pressed his ass against the cabinets, grinding against them, and Will almost went feral.

“There are guests in the other room,” Will said through clenched teeth, his voice so ruined he barely recognized it as his own. He latched onto the counter to keep himself from mauling the needy man in front of him. “Make dessert so they’ll leave, Hannibal.”

Hannibal straightened up, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth reddened from biting at his own lips. He nodded curtly while Will adjusted himself in his slacks, willing his erection away unsuccessfully.

Hannibal moved around the room, plating their dessert on autopilot, and Will did nothing to help aside from grip the counter like a lifeline. Hannibal handed off two plates for Will to carry, and they weren’t as prettily made as Hannibal usually liked to present his dishes.

He was desperate and it showed.

They headed back into the dining room, and Alana beamed while Will dropped the plate down in front of her. “Looks good!”

“Orange bread pudding with vanilla sauce,” Hannibal announced, though his voice sounded less enthusiastic than it usually did when he presented his dishes.

Jack hummed after his first bite, smiling at Hannibal warmly. “Delicious, Doctor. Did Will help with this course as well?”

Will chuckled distractedly, watching the way Hannibal rocked on the chair subtly. “The potatoes took hours. I struggled.”

“They were delicious,” Jack praised him.

Without conscious thought, Will gripped Hannibal’s wrist where it rested on the table, begging him silently to stop fucking moving, and the action drew Jack’s attention right away.

Hannibal laced their fingers automatically, and Jack’s mouth fell open. “Oh,” he said numbly.

Will didn’t notice immediately, as he was too busy watching every minute roll of Hannibal’s ass against the chair. He squeezed Hannibal’s fingers, licking his bottom lip while imagining taking Hannibal over the table. The image was vivid. Him, sliding Hannibal’s pants down his legs, kicking his ankles wide so he could manipulate the golden thing buried deep inside of Hannibal’s body.

Hannibal’s eyes darted down to Will’s mouth, and he bit his lip as if considering the same thought.

“How long have the two of you been a thing?” Jack asked suddenly.

Will ripped his hand away from Hannibal’s while his heart hammered because of something other than Hannibal’s ass. “What?”

Jack’s mouth flattened into an unamused line, his eyes flicking between them knowingly. “It’s new, I take it.”

Hannibal finally fucking stopped moving, and he picked up his wine glass with a flush on his face that could be attributed to being caught. “We owe no explanation,” he began.

“Like hell you don’t,” Jack replied sternly. “You are his doctor.”

“Never my therapist,” Will argued flatly. He was frankly tired of explaining himself. “Never officially, anyway. I am well, Jack. I can make my own decisions, and I don’t need any input from anyone on my love life. So thanks for the concern, but this conversation is over.”

Alana choked on her wine, glancing up at him in surprise while Jack turned various shades of purple. He wanted to yell. Will knew it just by the way his spine straightened out.

He didn’t though. He swallowed it down, grimacing at how bad it tasted. “You can’t work together anymore,” he said instead.

“We won’t be consulting, so that will not be an issue,” Hannibal reminded him gently.

“I’m disappointed with you, Doctor Lecter,” he said finally. “I thought you were more professional than this.”

Will snorted, thinking about how his professional doctor was rocking a metal plug against his prostate while Jack ate his bread pudding, but he stayed quiet.

“You know how long I’ve known Hannibal?” Alana said softly, drawing Jack’s attention as well as Will’s own. “At least eight years. Do you know how many times I’ve seen him pursue a romantic relationship with someone? Never. This clearly means something to the both of them, as I’ve never seen Will with anyone, either. Leave them be, Jack. Be happy for them that they’ve found each other.”

Jack’s face softened a bit at that, and he glanced down in contrition. “Forgive me,” he said after clearing his throat.

“Nothing to forgive,” Hannibal assured him with a polite smile. “We all want what’s best for Will. I am not so blind that I don’t realize how it seems to outsiders. If I were a better man, I would leave him be. I am not, however, and I will not deny my love for him if he wants it.”

Alana smiled almost dreamily while eating her bread pudding, and Jack sighed. “I’m… happy for you, Doctor.”

He sounded anything but happy, though the conversation steered away regardless. Will cautiously rested his hand over Hannibal’s again, and the rest of their dinner went well enough.

He was still distracted. Every tiny movement that Hannibal made felt like it pulled something in Will’s gut, and he moved often. Too fucking often.

Their dinner came to a close after everyone finished their glass of wine, and Alana and Jack announced their departure within moments of one another. Alana pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s cheek, then did the same for Will, even though the action stunned him to silence. She’d never so much as instigated a hug between them, so this was extremely unusual.

Jack shook his hand, wishing him good luck at his appointment, and then Hannibal ushered them both to the door. Will busied himself by clearing away dishes, putting everything on the counter before scraping plates into the trash. Hannibal came back once they were gone, glancing carefully away from Will while unbuttoning his blazer. “I’m going to… get more comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Will knew he meant that he was going to remove the fucking plug from his body, and he shook his head while heat flared through him. “You’re going to come here,” Will said lowly, both of them moving slow and steady like predators through the kitchen.

Hannibal nodded, moving away from the door towards the stairs. “I’ll be back in just-”

Will moved quickly, snatching Hannibal’s wrist to drag him into the kitchen. Hannibal tugged half-heartedly while a blush crept up his neck. “I said, you’re going to come here.”

“Will please,” he breathed, rubbing idly at his temple. “This is… humiliating for me. I don’t… it’s not something that…”

Will undid Hannibal’s belt buckle with shaking hands, then gripped his wrist while he took out the cufflinks that secured his blazer to his button down. He set one aside, then the other, before tugging his blazer off his shoulders. “I want to see it,” Will demanded breathlessly while loosening his tie enough to get it over his head. “I get to see it, since it’s the reason I thought I was going batshit crazy.”

Hannibal set his blazer down on the kitchen stool, his eyes settling on Will heavily while he fumbled with the buttons on Hannibal’s button down. The material fell from his shoulders, and Will immediately returned his attentions to Hannibal’s belt and slacks. He gripped Hannibal’s hip, turning him so he was braced against the counter while tugging his slacks and his underwear down in one go. They pooled at his ankles, and Will swallowed dryly. “Off,” he rasped, kicking at Hannibal’s foot.

Hannibal groaned, toeing off his loafers, then kicking off his slacks and underwear. Will let his eyes travel over his strong back appreciatively before stepping against him, dragging his throbbing length against his ass cheek while unbuttoning his own shirt.

He didn’t bother with his pants, yet. Once his shirt was off, all he could think about was finally getting his hands on the skin of the man in front of him. Hannibal’s head hung between his shoulders, a mimicry of a man who had just received a death sentence. “You like being the only one who understands when you make a joke,” Will said darkly, gripping Hannibal’s ass cheek in his hand and squeezing. “You told Mrs. Komeda that it was good to plug it up. You said that at the fucking dinner table, while rocking this thing inside of you.”

Hannibal mewled as Will gripped his ass cheeks, spreading them wide. The golden handle gleamed between them, moving subtly as Hannibal clenched around it. Will touched it gently with two fingers, pressing down enough that Hannibal let out a guttural little sound. “I fantasized about it,” Will continued, his words punctuated with sharp breaths as he took the little handle between his thumb and forefinger, tugging the warm metal slowly. It pulled the puckered muscle open as it slid part-way out, and Will released it immediately. He watched, enraptured, as the clamping muscle sucked it back inside.

Will groaned while Hannibal writhed, and he desperately undid his own pants to kick them off his legs. “I thought about doing this,” Will sighed, pressing his naked cock against Hannibal’s ass while he shifted the plug downward, angling it against Hannibal’s prostate relentlessly. He rolled the handle in his palm, watching with wide eyes as Hannibal’s entire body quivered from the pleasure of it. His back had broken out in a sheen of sweat, his thighs twitching endlessly while Will continued his merciless assault. “I thought about how warm the metal would be, and even in my wildest dreams it was never hot like this.”

He tugged the plug again, pulling his rim wide around the fattest part of it. He left it there, stretching Hannibal deliciously while Hannibal sobbed. “Please, Will. Oh, please.”

“Did you come that night?” Will asked softly, and Hannibal shook his head. “Why not?”

“Y-you were sick,” he said between gasps of breath. “I took it out.”

Will hummed, rewarding him by sliding it forward again to roll it against his prostate. Hannibal moaned, bowing his back to get it to rub more firmly, but Will tugged it back to stretch him again. “Do you wear it to all your dinner parties? Or just the ones where I’m in attendance?”

Hannibal slapped the counter, rocking backwards enough that Will lost his grip. It sunk back inside of Hannibal, who clenched around it gratefully. Will tutted, tugging the device back again, watching in dumbstruck awe as the clenching muscle stretched wide around it again. “Answer me,” Will demanded.

“All of them,” he confessed through gritted teeth. “But…”

“But?” Will prodded, rubbing the stretched rim with his finger and eliciting a sharp shiver from the man under him.

“I enjoy it more when you’re there,” he confessed.

Will groaned, tugging the device out more. It gleamed in the kitchen light, and Hannibal’s entrance pulsed around the smaller end of it. Will pushed it back in enough to stretch him, and Hannibal gasped.

“I’m fucking livid with jealousy over a metal plug,” he mused while grinding his cock against the firm flesh of Hannibal’s ass. “I’ve never wanted to be an inanimate object more in my life.”

“Take it out,” Hannibal gasped, turning to Will with a desperation on his face that he’d never seen before. “Take it out and replace it with your cock.”

Will’s hips snapped against him, and he moaned through a shiver of want so intense that his eyes closed. “Yes,” he managed. “Oh God, yes.”

He glanced around at the counter, noting that the olive oil was as far away from him as fucking possible. It felt like the bottle may as well have been on the moon.

“Cabinet,” Hannibal groaned while Will kept tugging the device up and down in short, rhythmic, strokes. “Below me, Will. Mineral oil for my cutting boards.”

Will felt so grateful in that moment that he could have cried. He bent over Hannibal’s hip, opening the cabinet door. Sure enough, food grade mineral oil sat next to a stack of well-loved cutting boards. He gripped the clear bottle in his hand while pressing a kiss to Hannibal’s shoulder. “Do you want this?” Will asked, his voice barely hiding the strain of his desperation. “If you don’t, you need to tell me.”

“Will,” he gasped, rocking his ass back against Will’s hand that was still torturing him with the plug. “I want it. I want you. Please. Please, take it out. Fuck me.”

His cock jerked hard against Hannibal’s hip and he startled away to grasp at the base of his cock with a hard grip. He’d almost just come. His arousal was still pulsing hot through his veins, his body reabsorbing the shock of his imminent orgasm. When the feeling began to subside, he reached out with a shaking hand to tug the plug from his rim, this time not stopping to tease or move it at all aside from getting it out of Hannibal’s body.

He tossed it to the floor where their clothes were strewn about and immediately drizzled mineral oil over his fingers. Hannibal spread his legs a little wider, arching his back in silent invitation that Will planned on accepting.

The oil was slick and cool on his fingers, and he eased two inside of Hannibal’s furnace-like heat. Two fingers slid in with almost no effort at all, and Hannibal clenched around them, rocking his hips back against Will’s hand. He wasn’t exactly sure where the prostate was, technically speaking. He stroked his fingers inside the velvet confines of Hannibal’s body experimentally, grinning wide in feral delight when Hannibal tremored while a gravelly little moan tore from his throat. He sunk a third finger inside, stroking that spot occasionally enough that Hannibal was a mess under him, and the older man tossed a frustrated glance over his shoulder. “Enough,” he gasped, his eyes dark and fathomless. “Fuck me, Will.”

Will didn’t waste another second. He slid his fingers out, slicked his cock with more oil, then pressed the head of it against Hannibal’s rim. Sinking inside felt divine. Even with the prep, he was wildly tight around the head of Will’s cock. “Oh fuck,” Will gasped, reaching blindly to grip his hip with slick fingers. “Hannibal, Jesus Christ.”

“Will,” Hannibal praised him while nudging his hips back, forcing Will inside more quickly. He had planned to give Hannibal a minute to adjust once his hips were flush against Hannibal’s ass, but the older man didn’t have any patience for that.

He bounced on Will’s cock, a gutted sound falling from his lips. Will snapped them against Hannibal’s ass in response, drilling himself deeper inside of the unbelievable tight heat around him. He felt like sin; wet, hot, and so fucking eager. He pressed his palm against Hannibal’s lower back, bowing it down in an effort to nail that spot inside of him, and it worked perfectly.

Hannibal’s head fell forward, his hands braced against the counter while Will pounded the desire he felt for him into his body. He’d never felt like this. His whole body was like a livewire, pleasure thrumming hot and needy through his veins. He was so turned on that everything felt like overstimulation, his muscles twitching and begging for release.

He gripped Hannibal’s hips tightly, snapping his own so hard against Hannibal’s ass that his balls were slapping lewdly against Hannibal’s skin. Everything felt like it was in technicolor, the scent of sweat and musk permeating the air. Will scented him like a shark, leaning over his back to lick at the sweat and golden muscle there. “Perfect,” Will gasped, biting the meat of Hannibal’s shoulder and pulling a sweet moan from Hannibal’s mouth. “So fucking perfect, Hannibal,” he crooned while pounding into Hannibal with abandon.

Hannibal reached back while arching away from the counter, turning his body enough that he could lace his fingers through Will’s damp curls. Will ground deep inside while thrusting minutely, bowing over Hannibal’s back to bring their mouths together in a clumsy clash of teeth and tongue. His mouth was dry and tasted of salt, and Will sucked on his tongue, sliding his slickened hand up the sweaty expanse of his back to grip at Hannibal’s hair. He held his head back, his neck stretched at an awkward angle while Will fucked into him with his cock and his tongue.

He wasn’t going to last. Pleasure crawled up his neck, making his hair stand on end while his nerves whited out in ecstasy. He let go of Hannibal’s hair, leaning back to watch himself disappear in the clenching muscles of Hannibal’s body, taking pleasure in how red his ass cheeks were from Will pounding against them.

If he felt like this, he couldn’t imagine how Hannibal was feeling in this moment. He reached around his hip awkwardly, gripping the hot, wet, cock he found there in a tight grip. Hannibal bucked against him, rocking his cock in the circle of Will’s fingers, and that was all it took.

He felt Hannibal jerk in his hand, a low, guttural moan echoing through the room as he came against the side of his cabinets. His muscles clamped down on Will like a vice, as though he were trying his best to take Will’s dick off at the root.

Will bellowed out, pounding his own release into Hannibal while his vision went white. His orgasm felt endless, his cock pulsing and jerking while Hannibal slumped forward onto the counter. He’d never come like this. Didn’t even know it was a thing that could happen until this point.

His legs and arms felt weak, so he flopped against Hannibal’s back, his cheek resting damp and slick against Hannibal’s shoulder. Will could hear his own heart pounding in his chest, and he adjusted his body, grimacing at how much sweat was pooled between them.

Hannibal stood up shakily, forcing Will to do the same. His cock slipped free, and each of them winced, although for different reasons. Will felt a furious blush working up his face as Hannibal turned, resting one elbow on the counter. One eyebrow was raised on his flushed face, and Will wasn’t sure what his expression meant. “Did… did I hurt you?” Will asked softly.

“No,” Hannibal chuckled. He swiped absently at a trail of cooling sweat on his brow, licking his reddened and abused lips. “I did not know you had something like this in you.”

Will rested his chest against Hannibal’s, leaning his full weight against him. “Neither did I,” Will blushed. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

A soft hand trailed down his ribcage, fingertips smoothing into a dimple at the small of his back. “Not at all how I imagined our first time,” Hannibal mused, leaning forward to press a kiss so sweet and soft against Will’s lips that it barely felt like anything at all. “I’m not sorry, though. I’ll admit that I never wanted anyone to know about… my proclivities, but I’m not sorry that you reacted this way.”

“If you didn’t want anyone to know, you could just… not wear the cufflinks,” Will said, pursing his lips. “You wear them, and you like the idea that someone might know exactly what they are, and what they mean. You like that most of your acquaintances don’t notice you at all, never mind paying attention to something so… obvious.”

“You know me well,” Hannibal sighed, trailing his fingers back up to weave them in Will’s damp curls. “Too well, I think.”

His eyes had darkened with whatever thought he had, and Will leaned forward to kiss him again. “Shower?” he asked between tiny sips of Hannibal’s mouth.

Hannibal glanced around at his absolutely filthy kitchen with a grimace. There was come on his cabinets and on the floor. Mineral oil streaked across it for good measure. Dirty dishes were piled high, and Will could feel his anxiety mounting. “We’ll shower together, then come downstairs and clean up. Okay?”

Hannibal nodded, though his eyes were now downcast towards his wrinkled suit on the floor. His darling man was about to have a nervous breakdown, so Will stepped away gingerly to pick up their clothes, fluffing them out gently to rest them over his arm. “Better?” Will asked while wrapping the gold butt plug in his dirty boxers.

“A bit,” he said with a twitch of his upper lip. They used the downstairs bath, as it was the closest, and because their feet were slickened with mineral oil.

Will got the shower going, placing the butt plug in the sink for Hannibal to… deal with. Will stepped into the shower while he diddled with it, soaping his feet up first as they were outrageously slippery.

Hannibal joined him a few minutes later, avoiding eye contact while picking up the soap that Will had just set down. He soaped his own feet first too, and Will bit back a smile that he knew would rile Hannibal if he noticed it. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Will said carefully while rinsing the cleanest smelling shampoo from his curls that he had ever smelled. He wiped at his eyes once his hair was rinsed, taking in the careful expression on the other man’s face. “Nothing at all, actually.”

Hannibal gripped his hip, turning them around so that he was now in the spray to rinse his body clean. Will watched him reach behind himself discretely, soaping at his entrance with a tiny little wince on his face. Will blushed with the realization that he had in fact hurt Hannibal in his vigor, and he sighed. “I should be embarrassed, but you shouldn’t.”

“For the very last time, you didn’t hurt me,” Hannibal said, carefully turning his body away to lather shampoo into his hair. “I’d appreciate it if you never told anyone about what you’ve… discovered.”

“Obviously,” Will sighed, reached out tentatively to stroke the firm muscles of his back. Hannibal tensed from his touch, and he pulled his fingers away.

“Did I inadvertently ruin this between us?” Will asked softly. Hannibal paused while rinsing the suds free from his hair, and Will watched his Adam’s apple bob with a swallow before he finished rinsing.

He swiped at his eyes, stepping away from the spray enough that he was in Will’s space. The scrutiny of his gaze was intense, so Will dropped his eyes down, staring resolutely at his sternum. “I am… embarrassed at being caught. I don’t want you to believe that I’m some kind of sexual deviant, even though…” he sighed, glancing away for a moment.

“Wearing a plug at a dinner party could be considered… voyeurism if you squint, I guess,” Will admitted gently. “It’s not anything that I find concerning. Well, it’s concerning in that the very thought of you doing it makes me hard as a rock, but… it’s definitely not the worst kind of deviance someone could get into. Hannibal, I think it’s hot. I realize what that says about me, but… Jesus, I went feral on you. I think it’s pretty clear that it doesn’t upset me.”

Hannibal turned the water off, reaching for a fluffy white towel that he handed off to Will, then another for himself. He stepped out from the shower, carefully avoiding the mineral oil footprints while he dried off in silence.

Will stayed in the shower to dry off, as he felt that Hannibal needed some space. Will turned his back to Hannibal, drying himself off while his stomach turned with anxiety. He’d gone too far. Reacted too thoughtlessly, and now Hannibal was going to put major distance between them.

He’d slaughtered another relationship before it even started, as he was wont to do.

He swallowed through the sudden tightness in his throat, fighting off errant tears. The few times he’d been in a relationship or an almost-relationship had almost always fizzled out because of Will or his empathy disorder. He’d say something or do something that caused hard feelings without intending to, and the relationship would end. It never bothered him too much, until now.

Hannibal was different. Losing him felt like a serious loss, and Will couldn’t even imagine his life without him in it. He’d had no one for so long, and he’d been fine with it. No friends, really. Certainly, no lovers. Loneliness stung occasionally, but it was his baseline.

It wasn’t until Hannibal that he realized just how lonely he’d been. It wasn’t until he found someone who understood him entirely that he realized just why people even bothered with friendships. Or relationships, for that matter.

He was drying the ends of his curls with the towel, so lost in his despondent thoughts that he didn’t realize that he was being watched. Hannibal was leaning against the counter, drumming his fingers while watching Will with… fondness? That definitely couldn’t be right.

“Would you stay the weekend?” he asked. The question was the absolute last thing he’d ever imagine Hannibal asking at this point, and he flapped his mouth for a second.

“Do you want me to stay the weekend?” Will countered while stepping out of the shower stall.

Hannibal snatched his waist on the way out, tugging him close. “I want you to stay the weekend,” he said softly, reaching up to card his fingers through the damp curls at the nape of Will’s neck. “Who is taking you for your appointment on Monday?”

Will shrugged. “Alana said she would take me. It’s at nine on Monday morning.”

“I’ll get in touch with my patient’s tomorrow to cancel with them on Monday,” Hannibal offered. Will allowed his fingers to reach up, stroking gently at his chest and his abdomen. His skin was still damp from their shower, and he felt hot and silky against Will’s fingertips. “I’d like to take you.”

“You don’t need to keep me close to prevent me from telling people, Hannibal,” Will sighed. “I promised I wouldn’t, and I meant it.”

“If you think I want your company to keep a lid on you, then you certainly don’t understand my feelings for you whatsoever,” he said softly. “I am embarrassed, but I have no intention of losing you because I’m feeling vulnerable.”

“Was that your first time… like that?” Will asked miserably.

Hannibal chuckled while a hint of pink stained his high cheeks. “No,” he said softly. “I assume you’re asking if that’s the first time I’ve been penetrated?” Will nodded, and he smiled. “Then no.”

Will stepped into his arms, resting his face against the crook of Hannibal’s neck. His aftershave was gone, and only the clean scent of his bar soap remained. Will wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him close enough that he could feel the steady thrum of his heart against his chest.

He felt Hannibal take a gentle inhale against the side of his temple, and he sighed. “You need to take your evening meds,” he said softly.

The mood was broken with that, and Will nodded while stepping away.

Chapter Text

It took the better part of an hour to clean their mess. Hannibal washed his floors and cabinets while Will took his meds and started washing the dishes. Will was almost finished washing by the time Hannibal finished mopping and cleaning, and he took a clean dish towel to begin drying the dishes to put them away.

His dogs were whimpering at the doorway by the time he shut off the faucet and wiped down the sink. “I’ve got to take them for a walk,” he sighed. “I’ll be back, though.”

“Would you like my company?” he asked. There was still a significant number of dishes to dry, and Will shook his head.

“When Ellie makes that noise, it’s critical. I’ve got to get her out before…”

“Ah,” Hannibal chuckled. “Then go ahead. I’ll be here, beloved.”

Will was wearing his pajama pants and a tee shirt, but all he bothered with was his shoes and jacket to get them out as quickly as possible. Ellie barely managed to get down the steps of the porch before peeing on the curb immediately at the bottom of Hannibal’s property.

He walked them only enough that they all went number one and some number two before heading back to the house.

He was goddam exhausted by the time he reentered the foyer, his dogs tugging against their leashes as he unclipped them. Hannibal emerged from the kitchen with a frown on his face. “You look about ready to drop,” he sighed. “There is a backdoor that leads to a small, enclosed patio area. From now on, you may allow them out there to relieve themselves.”

“They’ll dig up your garden,” Will said drowsily while hanging up their leashes by the door.

“Then I suppose it’s good that it’s January and there are no plants to dig up,” Hannibal replied. “If they’re all set for the night, then we should go to bed, Will.”

Will had no fight in him about that, so he followed Hannibal up the stairs and into his bedroom. The last time he was here was the night of the dinner party. It felt different this time, as he was pulling back unbearably soft sheets on the massive bed. Hannibal tugged his sweater off, leaving himself in his red striped pajama pants. He kept his own tee shirt on, then crawled into the soft, warm, bed.

It held his body like a cloud, and Will groaned while stretching under the covers. “This… is much nicer than my bed.”

Hannibal laughed, settling out on his side to face Will where he laid on the bed like a corpse. Soft fingers trailed the side of his face, and Will forced himself to roll onto his side to look at his other half.

His hair was in disarray against the pillow, his whole body soft and relaxed. His lips were lifted in the gentlest smile while he slid his fingers down the side of Will’s face towards his neck. He looked… comforting. Beautiful. Will was too far away from him.

He wiggled over in the bed, and Hannibal immediately snatched him up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his temple. He was warm and smelled so fucking good that Will sighed again, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. “I’ve never understood why people cuddle in bed,” Will said while dragging his lips against his throat up to his jaw. “It always seemed so uncomfortable to me. Sharing space, elbows and arms getting in the way and having nowhere to go. I get it now, though.”

Hannibal tipped his face up by his chin, capturing his mouth in a sweet kiss that still tasted faintly of toothpaste. His tongue explored Will’s mouth before backing off enough to suckle each of Will’s lips, tugging them gently with his teeth. Will could feel the desperation on Hannibal, as if the other man sometimes truly did want to take a piece of him. His hands grasped at Will almost too roughly, and his teeth had a hint of warning in them that made Will go stock-still.

Will understood it entirely. He’d never experienced cute aggression with another human being until Hannibal. That teeth-gnashing urge to bite down hard on someone else, all because you can’t get enough of them. It was concerning, but perfectly normal. “There’s a word in the Philippines,” Hannibal said between gentle sips of his mouth. “’Gigil’. It’s untranslatable, but the word generally describes an uncontrollable feeling when one is overwhelmed by an emotion. I’ve never felt it before you.”

“Cute aggression,” Will chuckled. “I was just thinking about that.”

“Were you?” Hannibal laughed, trailing wet kisses down the side of his throat. “Why is that?”

“I could feel you trying to keep yourself from biting down,” Will confessed, startling Hannibal enough that he pulled away with a surprised look on his face. “My gift,” he sighed, and Hannibal blushed. “I also understand it because I feel the same way about you. Sometimes I just want to… squeeze you until you’re miserable. Bite you until you feel how I feel when I look at you. It’s fucking crazy, honestly.”

“Gigil,” Hannibal mused with amusement in his eyes. “It’s normal, Will. Perfectly, boringly, normal.”

“How do you draw the line between cute aggression and… obsession? It’s eerily similar, don’t you think? The desire to hurt someone with your love for them. To take a piece of them inside of yourself, primal and possessive.”

Hannibal hummed, leaning forward to literally lick Will’s jaw. A laugh bellowed out of him, loud and unexpected, and Hannibal grinned while licking at him again. “I think my feelings regarding you dance right on the edge of obsession,” he confessed. “On occasion, I feel an inherent urge to bite down and keep you still against me. Generally, I feel the desire to keep you safe. I’ll never hurt you, Will. Even though my teeth ache sometimes just looking at you.”

Will leaned forward and captured his shoulder between his own teeth, biting down on the meat of him not-so-gently. Hannibal went still, his breathing uneven while Will sucked a vibrant bruise against his skin. He pulled away, licking his lips while appraising his work.

His teeth imprints were on Hannibal’s shoulder, but they’d fade as he hadn’t broken the skin. He’d have a pretty serious bruise, though. Will grinned, flopping back against the pillows. “So long as you avoid my neck so that I don’t look like a love-struck teenager, you can bite me, Hannibal.”

His eyes darkened to near-black, and Will imagined himself pinned by that gaze as if he were prey. He went still, and Hannibal leaned forward to bite his jaw. It was a gentle bite, nothing that would so much as redden or bruise, and Will laughed. “Not my neck or my face. I thought that went without saying.”

His predatory man released his jaw from his mouth, licking at the spot affectionately. “You must be clear, Will. I’ll take liberties if there are grey areas.”

“Of course you will,” he teased. “It’s where you thrive.”

Hannibal was beaming down at him with so much prideful admiration that Will wiggled in discomfort. “I love you,” he sighed while pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw, then his mouth.

Relief tore through Will like a tornado. All the anxiety that had built up after their tryst in the kitchen was torn out at the root, and he shuddered against Hannibal, tugging him close again. He held onto Hannibal as if he might disappear, and the older man let him squeeze the life out of him without complaint.

He woke up the next morning to damp kisses being trailed down his chest, and he shifted against the sheets with a tired smile on his face. Hannibal was braced over him, pressing kisses to his tee shirt while lifting it up his torso. “What time is it?”

“Nine-thirty,” Hannibal replied, gliding his hands under the material of Will’s shirt to tug it up his body. His chest met the cooler air of the bedroom, pebbling his nipples. Hannibal latched onto one, suckling it gently between his teeth.

Will moaned, arching his back sleepily into the warmth of his mouth. Hannibal latched on a little better, suckling to the point where it felt like every pull was directly attached to his cock. “I’ve got to get up,” he sighed miserably, and Hannibal let go of his abused nipple to trail kisses down his stomach. “Ellie can’t wait this long to go outside,” he continued, though his hips thrust up pathetically in search of more.

“I’ve been awake for almost four hours now,” Hannibal said between rough sucks against his abdomen. His partner was marking him up, laying claim to him with his mouth. “They’ve been out twice, and they’ve been fed.”

Will could have sobbed in relief, but he was distracted by Hannibal untying his pajama pants. “Perfect,” Will said thankfully while easing his fingers through Hannibal’s soft hair. “You are perfect.”

“You said my name last night,” Hannibal whispered against his hipbone while tugging down his pajama pants to free his erection. “You sighed my name, and then rutted against my hip.”

Will blushed furiously, hiding it behind his hands while he tried to come up with some excuse for his actions. “Maybe I wasn’t asleep,” he said pointlessly, as they both knew he was definitely not conscious.

Hannibal hummed in amusement, looking up at Will while taking the head of his cock between his lips. It was barely a suck. More like an open-mouthed kiss before he pulled away again. “You were asleep,” Hannibal chuckled while straddling his thighs. “Asleep and moaning my name while thrusting against me. It was quite the show in the middle of the night.”

“Oh God,” Will replied in embarrassment. “Stop. Please, don’t talk about it.”

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked after planting an open-mouthed kiss against the base of his cock.

“My fingers inside of you, I think,” Will admitted. He was blushing furiously, and Hannibal rewarded his honesty by taking his cock between his lips, giving him a long, slow, suck from base to tip. Will gasped, and Hannibal hummed again before pulling away to look at Will expectantly. He wanted details, and Will didn’t have anything aside from little flashes of images that didn’t seem to make any sense. “I was fingering you open… then you were fingering yourself. I don’t… I don’t remember, really. The last thing I recall is… your fingers touching me. Like you wanted to sink them inside of me, but… you never did.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked silkily, licking a broad strip up Will’s cock and making it twitch. “For me to finger you?”

“Please,” he whined, shifting his legs uselessly between the strong barricade of Hannibal’s knees.

“Beautiful man,” Hannibal sighed.

He moved away from Will enough to untangle his legs from the rest of the blankets and get his pajamas off his legs before settling himself between Will’s thighs again. “Are you sore from yesterday?” Will asked in a relatively small voice.

“A bit,” he admitted softly, his fingertips ghosting against the underside of Will’s cock. “Do you want me instead?”

Heat shot through Will’s gut, and even though the answer to that question was yes, he shook his head. “I want you to… use your fingers. On me,” he blushed and stammered.

“If that’s truly what you want,” Hannibal replied, a hint of teasing in his voice while he reached over to the nightstand for a jar of lube. “You could have me right like this. Slick this lovely cock, and I’ll take you inside of me. Would you like me to ride you, Will?”

“Fuck,” Will blurted while shifting restlessly against the sheets. The visual alone made his cock pulse against his abdomen, and he tried to get a handle on himself. “I… oh fuck, I don’t know. Maybe? No. You’re sore, and… it’s fine.”

Hannibal let out a gravelly little laugh before pressing the jar into Will’s hand. “I won’t need very much stretching,” he said softly. Will held the jar while various emotions flitted through him. He wanted Hannibal, first and foremost. Wanted him so much it was almost an ache inside of himself.

It was selfish, though. He’d fucked Hannibal’s brains out less than twelve hours ago. “I don’t want this,” he said miserably. “It’s too soon, and I was too rough last night, and…”

Hannibal sighed, scooping a little blob out of the jar with his long fingers. Will relaxed against the sheets, relieved that Hannibal understood his uncertainty.

He was waiting for Hannibal to reach between his thighs and press his fingers against his opening. He did not expect the regal man to reach behind himself and arch his back.

Will’s brain stuttered to a halt while he watched a flicker of discomfort flit across Hannibal’s face. He was… fingering himself. His fingers were inside of his own body, and Will could barely pull in a breath.

“H-hannibal,” he gasped, wishing with all his might that he could see what Hannibal was doing to himself. The mental image he had was devastatingly hot, and the sounds that went with the visual made his cock throb. Little wet squelching noises echoed through the room, and Will swallowed roughly. “You just said you were sore.”

“Something you may not understand about anal sex is that there is always some discomfort the following day, Will,” he said it clinically, though a little sigh escaped his mouth as he rocked against his own fingers. “Your first time, I’ll be very gentle with you. Even with consideration, you’ll feel where I was the next day. Sore, yet… welcome. It’ll lessen with time. For each of us.”

Regular sex would ease the discomfort. What a chore that would be. Will licked his dry lips, sliding his fingers down the soft skin covering his ribs. “We’d get used to it?” he asked.

“Eventually,” Hannibal chuckled. His fingers withdrew from his body, and Will slicked his cock with more lube from the jar while Hannibal braced his knees to either side of Will’s waist.

“We never discussed protection,” Will realized while angling his cock towards his tight entrance. “A little late for that, but…”

“I’d smell disease on you,” Hannibal replied. “I would know, Will. For you, as well as myself.”

The head of his cock pressed against Hannibal’s rim while he mulled over that absolutely insane information. “You can smell… HIV? Gonorrhea?” Hannibal nodded, and Will’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious? What about syphilis? Crabs?”

The martyred laugh from Hannibal was winded as he sunk down over Will’s cock. Their conversation was wildly inappropriate given the circumstances, but Will was curious. Hannibal took a moment to adjust to the intrusion, his mouth parted while his jaw was tipped up towards the ceiling. “Can we discuss this later, perhaps?” Hannibal wondered.

Will laughed breathlessly, gripping Hannibal’s hips in his hands. “Later,” he agreed.

Hannibal rocked on him slowly, and the velvet heat clenching around his cock felt incredible. He sat up while gripping Hannibal’s thighs, tugging him closer. Their mouths met gently, and Will took a moment to cringe at just what his breath must be like right now.

His partner didn’t seem to care or notice. He licked at Will’s mouth, suckling his bottom lip while grinding down on Will with tiny circular movements of his hips. He gasped into Will’s mouth, threading his fingers through his curls to keep him close.

As if Will would leave.

Hannibal’s cock was trapped between their stomachs, the damp head leaving a sticky trail against their skin. His skin smelled clean, as though he’d maybe already showered this morning. He could smell the musky scent of their lovemaking, the tang of come in the air. His mouth tasted faintly of rich coffee, and Will licked into his mouth to find the sweet taste of him underneath.

He’d never been woken up for sex before this. The only relationship he’d ever had where that might have happened was with a girl in college, and she generally didn’t like being touched until she could shower. For whatever reason, it just never happened.

He liked the thought that Hannibal had been up this whole time, aching for him and wanting him enough that he crawled right back into bed for him. This strict man with a vigorous schedule woke up, performed his morning routine, and still somehow was called back to bed for Will alone.

He thrust up into his tight body at the thought, moaning low as Hannibal clenched around him. He let go of Hannibal’s thighs, reaching up to grip his jaw while he crushed his mouth in a devastating kiss. Their teeth gnashed while their tongues fought, Hannibal’s hips crashing against him in their heightened ardor.

Hannibal pulled away, trailing wet kisses down the side of his throat. He latched onto Will’s pectoral with his teeth, biting down to the point where a flare of pain resonated out. His wires were definitely crossed, because it didn’t feel like pain as Hannibal was doing it. It felt fucking good.

Will arched into the bite, and Hannibal released his skin from between his teeth, sucking it harshly with his lips instead. It felt like the spot had a heartbeat, his skin hot and sore where Hannibal was latched.

He was overwhelmed by Hannibal in the moment. The strength in his muscled body as he took his pleasure, the sharp lines of his face etched with early morning light from the windows. His skin was like hot silk under Will’s fingers, and he wanted more. More than Hannibal could possibly give.

There was a tiny flicker of awareness in his mind. A realization that while he did in fact feel possessive over Hannibal, the carnal, hedonistic, feeling he was harboring may not be his own.

Hannibal was riding him so deeply that Will’s cock barely escaped the tight heat of him. His hands were full of Will’s body, gripping and groping, keeping him close. Hannibal wanted to tug him inside of his ribcage and keep him there. It should have caused alarm to realize something so… concerning.

It did not.

Will laced his arm around his back, gripping his shoulder while thrusting up into him. He kept Hannibal barricaded against his chest, unable to rock away from him at all while he kept his cock deep inside.

His orgasm crashed over him without preamble. The desperation between them clung to Will’s skin, soaked into his pores. He felt like he needed to be buried deep within Hannibal’s very cells in order to breathe.

The guttural little moan from the older man pulled Will from his terrifyingly possessive thoughts while his cock pulsed and jerked inside of Hannibal’s body. He reached between them, stroking Hannibal’s cock while Hannibal pressed him back against the mattress, riding his spent cock as though trying to chase his own pleasure.

He whimpered with over-stimulation, but it was brief. Hannibal bucked on him, his cock pulsing in Will’s hand as he milked his orgasm from him. He came in long pulses over Will’s stomach, his body bowed back as he came with a wail.

Hannibal stared down at him in wonder while he thoughtlessly swept his fingers through Hannibal’s come on his stomach, bringing the wet fingers to his lips to suck them clean. Provoking this side of Hannibal was fascinating. He loved the way the older man’s eyes darkened. The way his body went unnaturally still, as though he were about to attack.

Will dragged his thumb across his bottom lip, licking the flavor of Hannibal from them as lewdly as possible. It pulled a noise from Hannibal’s lips that was so desperate that Will’s cock twitched where it still rested inside of Hannibal.

He couldn’t go again. There was no way it was happening, but he wished he could. Hannibal leaned over his torso, tugging his bottom lip between his own to suck the remnants of his seed from Will’s mouth. His lover gripped his chin between unforgiving fingers, angling his face up enough that it forced eye contact between them. “You wreck me, Will Graham,” he said accusingly. “My resolve. My restraint. They crumble to ash in your presence.” He sat back on his knees, releasing Will’s face to shift his weight off of Will’s lap. “I sometimes hate you for it,” he said miserably.

“No you don’t,” Will laughed. He tipped his face against his pillow, taking in the stoic expression on the other man’s face as it loomed over him.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t.”

Will smiled wider, going up on his elbow to chase those lips down for a kiss. Hannibal grinned in response, leaning away from him like a tease. He pouted, his eyes focused on Hannibal’s retreating mouth, and Hannibal laughed. He kissed Will gently, tugging a little sigh from Will that had Hannibal chuckling against his lips. He pulled away to card his fingers through wild curls, his eyes affectionate. “You must be hungry?”

Will hummed, flopping back against the pillows. “And I have to pee. It went away, but… I know I do.”

“So charming,” Hannibal said, pursing his lips. “Let me go clean up a bit, then I’ll make you some eggs before you take your medication.”

“I’m getting up,” Will sighed while fluffing the blankets back over himself and wiggling into them. “Just a minute, and I’m out of bed.”

He felt Hannibal crawl from the sheets, then heard the master bath door close. He drifted, warm, comfortable, and beyond sated, only to be woken up again what felt like minutes later. A soft kiss was pressed into his curls, and Hannibal’s voice rumbled against the shell of his ear. “Come on, beloved. You need to take your meds.”

He nodded, stretching gently against the soft mattress before climbing from the bed.

He used the bathroom, deciding he’d take a quick shower before he headed downstairs. By the time he came into the kitchen, Hannibal was pouring him a coffee and sliding a plate of eggs and ham over the island. “Thank you for cooking,” Will said while plopping himself on the stool.

Hannibal stood at the stove, dressed impeccably in a steel blue sweater and gray slacks as he plated his own eggs. He fussed with his own plate, making it just as gorgeous as Will’s own before taking the stool next to Will. “It’s nothing like I usually make,” Hannibal said, tossing a teasing grin at Will before sipping his coffee. “I was terribly distracted this morning.”

Will took a bite of the ham, moaning low in his throat. It was so salty and smokey, so perfectly tender that Will knew Hannibal had smoked it himself. “Do you own a smoker?” Will asked.

Hannibal gave him a nod, “In the pantry,” he admitted. “It’s treated like a fireplace; the exhaust goes right outside.”

“I’d like to make a brisket with it,” Will laughed. “Down home, dry-rubbed, Cajun brisket. In the summer I do it with liquid smoke, but real hickory is how it should be done.”

“Are you offering to cook for me?” Hannibal grinned while cutting into his own ham delicately.

Will shrugged. “You’ve done so much, Hannibal. Smoking a brisket is… nothing.”

“I’d expect some Louisiana side dishes,” he replied, arching an eyebrow.

Will laughed. “Have you never had southern cooking?”

He shook his head, finishing a bite of his ham. “Never ventured further south than Virginia.”

“We’ll have to remedy that,” Will promised. There was something niggling at the back of his mind, a conversation they’d had earlier in the morning. “So you can smell diseases on people?”

Hannibal choked on the sip of coffee he’d taken, setting the cup down delicately to wipe at his mouth with his napkin. “Yes,” he croaked. “Quite a topic change.”

“What if I’d have contracted HIV last week?” Will asked bluntly. “Would you be able to smell it?”

Hannibal cleared his throat, glancing away briefly. “Yes,” he said cautiously. “I’d smell the increase in white cells. The sweetly metallic scent in their blood.”

That thought gave Will pause. “My brain was cooking, Hannibal,” he said slowly. “You never smelled it on me? I would come to your office while sweating through fevers. You couldn’t smell that something was wrong?”

Hannibal’s face went carefully blank. His eyes never lifted up from his coffee cup while he carefully considered Will’s subtle accusation. “I could smell something,” he said finally. “As I’ve said, you smelled that way since I’d met you. I had no idea if that was your baseline or if you were sick with something that you didn’t want anyone to know about. The reason I said anything at all was because your scent… fluctuated. Some days it smelled sweeter than others.”

“That day you smelled me in your office,” Will recalled suddenly. “You smelled it then, didn’t you?”

Anxiety rose in him as Hannibal deflected his accusation again, glancing away towards his window. “I did,” he said gently. “As I said, I didn’t know if it was your cologne or-”

“Bullshit,” Will blurted. “You sniffed me in your office, and you looked so fucking thoughtful about it, Hannibal. You were considering whether or not to tell me, and I want to know why.”

The answer was suddenly clear as day. Why would he not tell Will that he was suffering from encephalitis? Why would he wear the cufflinks that blatantly displayed the logo of his butt plug at a fancy dinner party?

He liked to see what would happen.

Encephalitis combined with a rare empathy disorder would be intriguing, from a psychiatric point of view. “You wanted to see what would happen,” Will said softly. His heart felt like it was cracking in half in his chest, and he looked away to hide the hurt on his face.

“Will,” Hannibal sighed. “Please. You have to understand that if I were wrong, you’d have thought I was…”

“Crazy?” Will finished for him bitterly. “As crazy as I was feeling?”

“I’ve never for a single moment thought that you were crazy,” Hannibal assured him vehemently. “You have a unique view of the world around you. You have a capacity for kindness and love that I’ve never seen in all my life. You are so beautifully balanced, a perfect blend of light and darkness. Your capacity for both ends of the spectrum is… captivating. I adore every aspect of you, Will.”

The comment about the darkness in him threw him, and he shifted in his seat. “You like… that I enjoyed killing someone else?” Will asked in disbelief. “Is that what you’re talking about?”

“I liked that you could be honest with me about it,” Hannibal amended. “I always want you to be honest with me.”

Something tugged at Will’s gift. Something that demanded he investigate it further, and he took it apart in his mind. “What is it that you need to be honest with me about, Hannibal?”

His eyes flashed in shock, and he tilted his face away from Will to hide it just a split second too late. “Every so often, that gift of yours is unsettling,” he sighed. “What do you see in me, Will?” he asked softly.

“You accused me of hiding behind my glasses and my clothes,” Will said, tipping his head as he considered the man before him. “Yet you do the same. You hide behind your suits and your fancy dinner parties. You hide in the safety of your profession, knowing that no one looks too closely at you because they assume you’re harmless. Docile. The man that’s sitting beside me right now doesn’t have the body of a man that sits around in an office all day. You’re physical. You speak of tragedies in churches, musing that God must feel powerful to take the lives of the ones that worship him. There’s… more than a vein of darkness in you, too. You see mine because you recognize it as something that exists in yourself.”

Hannibal shifted uncomfortably, sipping his coffee with an unreadable expression on his face. “Events shape us like river water. Does the water follow along the rocks and shape its path? Or does the rock give and break to accommodate the river after years of exposure to the moving water?”

Will blinked at him, trying to make sense of his deflection. “Both,” he decided. “The river is its own entity, and it is formed and shaped by its surroundings as much as it weaves its own path.”

“The path of least resistance,” Hannibal agreed. “I have always been who I am, Will. Nothing has happened to me. Yet, events in my past have undeniably brought certain facets of me to the forefront.”

Will considered that, thinking about the trauma he must have endured losing his entire family to a violent home invasion. Nothing like that had ever happened to Will himself, yet he had darkness in him in spades. It wasn’t fair of him to prod at Hannibal like this, even if something was… off.

He felt exactly like he usually did right before he put a case together. He had all the pieces, he just had no idea how they fit together. “You can tell me anything, you know,” he said after a few minutes of tense silence. “Anything at all.”

Hannibal sipped his coffee, pointedly not looking at Will whatsoever. “Perhaps I’ll bring you home after breakfast,” he said softly, making Will’s heart drop out through his stomach.

He’d done it again, and he sighed while coming to his feet to wash the dishes. “If that’s what you want,” he agreed, feeling unbearably miserable.

The ride back to his house was utterly silent, and Will hated himself for saying anything in the first place. He struggled to fill the silence, reaching behind the seat to pet Max where he whimpered for attention.

His anger took over as they pulled up his long driveway, rearing up through the misery he was feeling. The car came to a stop, and neither said anything as Will climbed from the passenger seat to let his dogs out.

Hannibal’s face was a perfect mask of indifference. An expression he hadn’t seen pointed at himself since they’d met. The perfect, stoic lines of his face betrayed nothing, and it made Will more fucking angry than he’d been in a long time. “You’re a god damned hypocrite,” he spat, hovering by the passenger door that he’d left open.

The expression on Hannibal’s face narrowed, and for a brief moment, Will hesitated to continue. He looked dangerous. A jaguar about to pounce. He continued anyway. “You’ve known I was sick for much longer than you let on, and you won’t fucking tell me why. Why, Hannibal? You’re angry with me over what? That I see something in you that I’ve never noticed before? Did you let me stay sick because it put blinders on me regarding you?”

Hannibal’s lip twitched, and he knew he’d landed his mark. “You let me burn because I couldn’t see you through the smoke, right?”

“Close the door, Will,” Hannibal said evenly, a hint of warning in his tone that Will disregarded completely.

“No,” he spat. “I want to know why. What’s so bad about you that you’d risk my fucking brain to keep it secret? We’re over anyway, right? I deserve to at least understand.”

The engine cut abruptly, and Hannibal emerged from the driver’s seat in a startlingly quick movement. Will pressed himself against the car as Hannibal rounded on him, hovering so close to Will’s face that he barely contained his flinch. “What I did to you was unforgivable,” he said softly. “No one has ever loved me for who I am, Will. Even now, I don’t think you love me for who I am. Yes. I noticed that you were sick before I mentioned it to you. My reasons are selfish. I liked that you came to me. I liked that you relied on me. I did not believe that you would still want me in your life if you were well. I also knew you’d see me much more clearly, and I knew you could never love me if you saw me in crystal clarity.”

“You think I’m a shallow mother fucker, don’t you?” Will ground out.

“No,” Hannibal said, shaking his head. “I think you are exquisite. I am a very, very, selfish man, Will. I was holding onto you in the only way I thought that I could. For the first time in my life since my sister passed, I took into account someone else’s well-being. Yours. If your clarity results in my losing you, then so be it. The world is a much better place with you in it. At some point, you’re going to understand. My life will be entirely in your hands, and I am going to let you do exactly as you wish with me. You’ll have your revenge on me, beloved.”

“I don’t want revenge on you,” Will sighed. “You hurt me, Hannibal. What the hell could be so bad about you that you think I’d be better off losing brain cells?”

“I don’t think that anymore,” he promised softly. “And… I regret hurting you. I would spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but… I have a distinct feeling that you won’t want me to.”

“I am fucking mad as hell at you,” Will said fiercely, gripping the collar of his thousand-dollar coat to haul him closer. “So mad I could punch you, but I still love you. Deep down, I know that you aren’t that guy anymore, are you? You’d do anything for me.”

“Anything,” Hannibal agreed immediately, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I would do absolutely anything for you. I’d give up all that I am, and all that I have for you. I would burn the world to the ground. I would place my beating heart in your hands. I’ve wronged you, but know that I won’t do so again.”

Will’s own heart slammed in his chest, and he swallowed thickly while dropping his eyes away from the intensity in Hannibal’s own. “Stay,” he pleaded. “Stay with me, please. I wanted my weekend with you.”

“I think it’s best to give one another some space,” he said softly, stroking his fingers through his hair. “I will still take Monday off and bring you to your check-up.”

“If you want,” Will replied dejectedly.

“I do want,” Hannibal promised, leaning forward to capture Will’s mouth with his own. “I want more than anything, Will.”

“I bet you’re seeing why I’ve been alone for as long as I have,” Will said self-depreciatingly. “No one likes to be under my magnifying glass.”

There was no outward change in Hannibal’s expression aside from the slightest tilt of his head. “It’s an experience like no other,” he agreed reluctantly. “However, I am yours for as long as you’ll want me. I am very selfish, and I have no intention of letting you go.”

Despite his words, he contradicted himself by stepping away and letting Will go. He watched Hannibal breeze back to the driver’s seat, closing the passenger door himself along the way.

He watched Hannibal drive away, and stood in his yard long after the glow of his taillights were gone.

Chapter Text

He took a shower and returned to his boring recovery on Sunday. Alana had texted him to let him know that Hannibal would be picking him up on Monday morning himself, and he didn’t bother with a reply.

He worked on a fishing lure for the better part of an afternoon, weaving a small bone he’d found in his yard against the hook. It was tedious, but his thoughts could drift while he worked.

This lure was starkly different from others that he’d made. Something about it reminded him of the Ripper, though he had no idea why his thoughts drifted there. The small bone was likely from a bird, possibly a leg bone. He wove a feather from a cardinal into the lure, the striking dark red very bold for fly fishing.

It was grimly beautiful. The silver glint of the hook a steady reminder that under all that horrible beauty was something very deadly. Sharp and dangerous luring in its unsuspecting victim.

The deep red of the feather reminded him of the suit that Hannibal had worn to the dinner party on Friday. It was the same red, deep and shifting in the light. He reached out thoughtlessly for his plyers, wincing as he accidentally pierced his finger on the hook.

A bead of his blood welled on his thumb, smearing the silver hook in red.

He had no idea what made him realize it, but suddenly it was there. Obvious and startling as the cardinal feather.

What would be so bad about Hannibal that he’d let Will’s brain cook in his head to avoid him learning the truth? Why does he hide behind his suits and his profession, keeping who he really is a total secret from all those around him?

He considered the mask Hannibal wore with people other than Will. Random images flicked through his mind, conjuring the beautiful artwork that the Ripper made of his victims. He thought of how incredibly talented Hannibal was at almost everything he did.

He considered the Ripper’s surgical precision. The way Hannibal slid in to save Devon Silvestri’s victim, utterly competent and adept.

“Fuck,” he blurted out, sitting back in the chair as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

Hannibal. Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper.

It was very likely that he was the copycat killer, too.

He waited for the shock and revulsion to come, but… they just kind of… didn’t. Everything was clicking into place, his mind filling in details and making sense of things that simply hadn’t before.

What would he do with this information? Call Jack? Get Hannibal arrested and never see him again?

The thought was utterly repulsive. His life could be broken down into two categories: before Hannibal, and after Hannibal.

Before him, Will’s life was lonely and uneventful. He had his dogs and his lecture hall, his weekends by the stream and his brief encounters with his acquaintances. No one called him unless they needed something. No one dropped by for a coffee or to just spend time.

Loneliness was his baseline. It was always there, humming quietly in the background.

After Hannibal, his life was entirely different. He had someone that cared about him, and that he cared about in return. His weekends were full of phone calls and dinner invitations. His weeknights the same, but with coffee visits and quiet evenings sipping good whiskey by a fire.

Hannibal’s peaceful demeanor was like coming up for air. He craved their quiet moments and deep conversation with a fierceness that could rival an addict. Will loved him.

Now that he saw him in crystal clarity, he considered whether or not he still loved him.

He knew in his heart that Hannibal would never hurt him. His love for Will was like a burning ember, scorching him from the inside, out. Their conversation from the day before suddenly made sense to him, and he scoffed as he considered what Hannibal thought he would do once he figured it out.

At some point, you’re going to understand. My life will be entirely in your hands, and I am going to let you do exactly as you wish with me. You’ll have your revenge on me, beloved.

He thought Will would turn him in. He set Will up to know the truth, and then left him to do as he pleased with the information. There was no doubt that Hannibal was sitting in his house, his face placid and stoic while he waited for the FBI to descend on him like rabid wolves.

Hannibal didn’t want space because he wanted to be away from Will at all. He wanted to give him space to make a decision without any looming threat nearby.

He was giving Will freedom to do as he pleased with him. Judge, jury, and executioner.

Will had no illusions that Hannibal was dangerous, now. He’d seen what he’s capable of firsthand, in all its terrible glory.

Could he love someone who did things like that? The answer was simple; yes. He already loved someone who did things like that. Knowing it didn’t really change anything.

His phone sat to the side of his work table, the sun glinting off the screen like a beacon. He picked it up hesitantly, scrolling through his contacts before pressing call.

The phone rang twice before his voice poured over him like molten honey. “Will,” he sighed.

“Alana texted me to tell me that you’re still taking me to my appointment tomorrow,” he said, flicking dried blood from his thumb. “I was going to ask if you’d like to sleep here tonight? Make it easier for you tomorrow?”

There was silence over the line for so long that Will thought the call had been dropped. “Would you… Do you want me to?”

Will rolled his eyes, fighting back a small grin. “I want to see you. I was promised a weekend, and now I’m bleeding because I was distracted while making a fishing lure.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?”

“Nah,” Will chuckled. “I seriously miss you right now, but… my thumb will recover.”

There was a quiet huff of laughter on the line, and Will could picture the rose gold blush on his cheeks. “I’ll be there shortly, then.”

“Good,” Will sighed. “Hannibal?”

“Yes beloved?”

“Bring comfortable clothes,” he pleaded. “Don’t armor up for me.”

“I’ll wear pajamas,” Hannibal teased, calling back to that dinner party all those weeks ago.

“See you soon,” Will grinned.

The call ended, and he considered the decision he’d made.

It did not feel like the wrong one. There would need to be a conversation at some point, but… Will didn’t feel like trudging through it just yet. If Hannibal didn’t know that he knew, it would give him a rare opportunity to see him clearly in their interactions.

He’d keep his revelation a secret for now.

He reheated some leftovers for lunch, hovering by his microwave with the fork in his mouth. His mind drifted to just what the hell Hannibal did with all his trophies, as there still wasn’t a clear idea of that in any profile on him.

There was no rhyme or reason to them. Shoulders, thighs, hearts, lungs, liver, kidneys. He took intestines sometimes. There was even a pancreas missing from one victim. Did Hannibal have a basement with lit shelving, lighting up endless jars of morbid mementos?

He could not picture Hannibal going into a dingy basement to moon over a jar of intestines. The Ripper didn’t think of his victims as anything other than pigs, and he wouldn’t bask in his trophies any more than a butcher would over the carcass of a pig.

The microwave beeped as he deliberated on that, and he withdrew the glass container to put it on the counter. The smell that greeted him was divine; red wine, thyme, and rich butter. The meat was cooked to perfection, fork tender and mouthwatering.

He speared a piece of meat, glancing at the post-it note attached to the lid to try and figure out just what he was eating, exactly.

The lid didn’t specify. ‘Shoulder with red wine and root vegetables.’

Shoulder.

His bite stuck in his throat as he realized what the fuck he was eating. There was a brief moment where he considered spitting it into the sink, but…

It was so fucking good.

Eating it or not eating it wouldn’t change the fact that they were dead, whoever they were. He swallowed his bite and went to the freezer, glancing at the lids with clinical interest.

Sausage with Cajun rice. Liver and sweet onion over mixed vegetables. Lung Province style. He never lied by specifying a source. It was glaringly obvious, and Will wondered how he hadn’t noticed that little detail before this.

The love of his life was seriously, outrageously, fucked up.

He speared another bite of shoulder, moaning low over the intensity of the flavors that rolled over his tongue.

Turned out, he was seriously, outrageously, fucked up, too.

Hannibal arrived sometimes after four, just as Will had sat down on his front porch to watch his dogs play in the yard. He was dressed down very casually in his black sweater and gray slacks, a deep gray peacoat hanging open. His silvery blonde hair caught the breeze, demonstrating it was not slicked down with gel or anything else.

There was no garment bag for the following day. Just a tasteful black duffle bag that he slung over his shoulder and a canvas tote that undoubtedly held ingredients to make dinner. His dogs bounded over to him, and he ruffled Max’s face with his hands, beaming at the big dog who loved him so dearly.

Hannibal reached into his pocket to break off pieces of sausage to give them as a reward.

People sausage. His dogs were maneaters.

He was a maneater, now. A… cannibal. He blinked in surprise at the thought. Hannibal… was a cannibal.

A sharp laugh tore out of him, and Hannibal raised an eyebrow while feeding Zoe, who dropped more sausage into the snow than she did down her gullet.

“Don’t laugh at the lady,” Hannibal grinned. “It’s rude.”

“Wouldn’t want to be rude, would I?” Will laughed. Hannibal’s face smoothed out, and Will pat the stair by his side. “I just put them outside. Sit with me a bit.”

He came slowly, sinking down with a regal elegance that belied the rickety old porch he was squatting on. “Not as cold today,” he remarked absently.

“We’re going to talk about the weather?” Will asked with a laugh.

“What would you prefer we discuss?” he asked carefully.

“I forgive you,” he said, threading his arm under Hannibal’s to snuggle closer to him. “I forgive you for not telling me about my brain the moment you knew about it. You’re a fortress, and I knew that the moment I met you. I’m mostly shocked that you let me in at all, and… I forgive you.”

Hannibal looked at him skeptically, his eyes impossibly warm in the late afternoon sunlight. “Have you given any consideration as to why I didn’t tell you?”

“I know why,” he admitted, making Hannibal swallow thickly. “It was your way of keeping me at arm’s length.”

“You knew that yesterday,” he replied, petting Max who had followed him to the porch for some love. “You haven’t sorted out why I wished to keep you that way?”

“I just said I know why. You’re a fortress. You’re built to keep people out. I’ve somehow survived the moat of alligators, razor fencing, and impenetrable walls to find myself inside. I have the scars to prove it,” Will chuckled, holding up his thumb to show the deep puncture wound of the fishhook from earlier.

Hannibal gripped his wrist, pulling his hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the wound. “I don’t want to sound patronizing, but how exactly is this my fault?”

“I was distracted while thinking about you,” Will said, breath hitching as Hannibal trailed his mouth down to his wrist. He inhaled gently against the thin skin there, suckling the flesh affectionately. The hands that held his wrist so tenderly had stripped flesh away from people’s living bodies. That sweet mouth had eaten that flesh, consuming it as though they were nothing more than pigs.

His eyes drifted over Hannibal’s body, considering the dense muscle hidden away under all that golden skin. Will had felt like prey around him a few times, never fulling understanding why until now. Hannibal wore no masks in his presence. He was himself, and sometimes that meant he was a little… intimidating.

Will knew with absolute certainty that if he ever asked Alana if she ever felt like a mouse trapped by a vicious cat when she was around Hannibal, she would think he was insane. How could anyone think such a thing about the eccentric, demure, soft-spoken, Count Doctor Hannibal Lecter the eighth?

“You look so thoughtful,” Hannibal remarked, lacing their fingers together. “What is it, I wonder?”

“I was just thinking about why you chose me,” Will admitted, feeling a blush creep up his face. “Have you ever let anyone… know you? Aside from me?”

Hannibal looked out over his yard, his lip twitching up in a smile as he watched Buster aggressively attack a tuft of grass. “My aunt, Murasaki,” he admitted softly. “She was… barely five years my senior, as my father and brother were almost fifteen years apart. She was graceful and beautiful, wise in a way that was so very far beyond her years. She… she cared for me, and I thought that I certainly loved her. I allowed her to see all of me, and she cast me aside. Because of you, I know now that I couldn’t have loved her. Not when loving you feels like this.”

Will stayed silent for a few minutes, considering how heartbreaking it must have been for him to show another person who he was, only to be turned away. It occurred to him that Hannibal expected no less from him, either. Hannibal was resigned to the idea that once Will knew what he was, he’d turn him away, too.

Maybe not quite turn him away so much as turn him in, but the idea was the same. Hannibal was waiting for the inevitable rejection, as what sane person would choose to love someone despite such enormous flaws?

The answer was less than appealing, as no sane person ever would.

He wondered what it felt like to take a life in the way that Hannibal did. He’d considered more than a few times what he would have done differently with Hobbs.

He wished he could have killed him with his hands.

“I won’t be… angling my gift at you anymore,” Will said quietly, drawing those amber eyes on himself again. “I can’t lose you because of it. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever even remotely cared about because of it.”

“I never want you to be anything other than exactly who you are,” Hannibal said fiercely while gripping the hair at the nape of Will’s neck. “Never, Will. I am not hiding from you, and I don’t expect you to hide from me, either. It’s shocking to be dissected by that brilliant mind of yours occasionally,” he admitted, his mouth lifting a bit in a mockery of a smile. “But I also think you will discover some… shocking things about myself, as well. Turnabout is fair play.”

“You say that now,” Will chuckled. “It’ll lose it’s charm in a year, when I’m inferring things about you based on your facial expressions or how you put your books in a bookshelf. I can’t shut it off, and it’s… annoying.”

“You can’t turn yours off anymore than I can,” Hannibal sighed. “We will both have a few learning curves if we are to continue together. If I am to be honest, I so dearly want to know what you infer about me in terms of how I fill a bookcase.”

Will laughed, leaning into him to press a kiss against his cheek. “You use the Dewey Decimal System to organize your library,” he said immediately, making Hannibal bark out a laugh. “You’re strict and organized. You have a tendency towards OCD, though you’d deny that until you were blue in the face. Everything has its place for you, and when things are not as they should be, it haunts you until you fix it.”

Hannibal gripped him closer, nuzzling his nose into his curls. “How long have you wanted to vocalize this observation?”

“Since the first time I went to your office,” he admitted with a laugh. “My bookcases must drive you insane.”

“They did,” he admitted, still vibrating with laughter. “You haven’t noticed that I’ve rearranged them, then?”

“You didn’t,” Will snorted. “When?”

“While you were in the hospital,” he admitted sheepishly. “They are very accessible, now. What else have you noticed about me, I wonder?”

Will swallowed thickly, pressing his cold nose into the hollow of Hannibal’s throat. “I notice everything, Hannibal. Everything. Right down to how you place a sheaf of paper down on your desk. They always have to be neat with the corners strictly aligned. You’ll fuss with it for several minutes until it’s just the way you want it. You really do have some OCD, you know.”

“No,” he argued, though his face wasn’t blue, yet. “I do not.”

Ellie crept up the stairs, her hips not bothering her so much in the warm sun. She looked happy, a dog smile on her face as she nuzzled into Hannibal’s side. “Ellie,” he said warmly, spanning his large hand over her head for a gentle pet. “Hello, sweet girl.”

Will watched him dote on his sweet old dog, and he knew in that moment that he’d never lose this man. He’d stand in front of anyone who tried to take him away. He’d fight tooth and nail to keep him.

He hoped it would never come to that.

They went inside eventually, when the sun crept behind the tree line and no longer offered its warmth. Hannibal got busy in Will’s small kitchen, unpacking the canvas bag he’d brought with him to place some ingredients in the fridge.

“How does a stew sound for dinner?” he asked, placing everything he’d need meticulously on the counter. The meat he intended to use was vacuum sealed and clearly not from any butcher. If he had any reservations about eating another person again, now was the time to vocalize them.

“Perfect,” Will sighed, ambling over to wrap his arms around his narrow waist. “Absolutely perfect.”

After dinner, which was unbelievably good, he and Hannibal got ready for bed without words. Each brushed their teeth and undressed to their boxers before climbing into bed. His bed was lumpy and uncomfortable, something he’d never really realized until he slept in the cloud that Hannibal called a bed.

Maybe that would be the first thing he bought for himself now that he was well. This bed had soaked up its fair share of sweat and nightmares. It might be time for a new one. There were bedrooms upstairs that he could make into an actual bedroom, although the thought of being without his dogs during the night wasn’t a pleasant one.

The thought that Hannibal might stay with him more if he had a real bed was very tempting, though.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he admitted softly, snuggling down in the warmth of Hannibal’s arms. He felt soft lips against his temple, and a reverberating rumble emerge from Hannibal’s chest.

“Why is that?” he asked, twirling one of Will’s curls around his finger.

“I was certain I ruined this,” he admitted softly. “I really thought we were done. I’ve lost so many people, Hannibal. Some I cared about, most I didn’t. I would feel the loss of you until the day I died. It made me regret making this… romantic. I’d rather have you as a friend for the rest of my life than as my lover for two weeks.”

Hannibal held him tighter in response, a clawing desperation to his hold that made Will grunt as the air was squeezed out of him. “You regret this? What we have right now?”

“Maybe?” Will sighed, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. “Friendship is more forgiving than relationships are. If I piss you off as a friend, you can back off for a week or two and we can ease back into seeing one another. Relationships falter under strain. We could never retreat to friendship now that you’ve been mine. I couldn’t… I would never be able to sit there when you started seeing someone else. Just knowing that you were kissing them or doing what we’re doing now would drive me insane.”

“It’s a good thing then that nothing you do… pisses me off,” Hannibal chuckled. “I will never leave you, Will. I won’t abandon you or disregard you. I know you’ve been conditioned to believe that everyone leaves at some point or another, but I won’t. You are fascinating and beautiful, and I love you more than I ever thought I could love another person. You are so perceptive about details, yet you don’t seem to grasp that I genuinely worship you. Do you truly not feel it?”

“I do,” Will said hesitantly. “It’s… profound. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. Until you, I’ve never realized how insecure I am, I guess. I look at you sometimes and all I ask myself is how the fuck I managed to have you. It’s mind boggling, Hannibal.”

“Time will prove to you that I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction. “In a year, when I’m still awestruck by you, you’ll understand. In ten years, when we’re celebrating our anniversary, you’ll wonder how you ever thought my love for you would wane.”

Will almost choked on his spit, and he sat up to stare down at the other man with wide eyes. “Our… anniversary? It’s too soon to say something like that. You have no idea what will happen, and making promises like that-”

“Will,” he laughed, tugging his face down for a damp kiss. Whatever protest he wanted to make was lost to the feel of his partner licking into his mouth. His sweet tongue breached his lips, sweeping tenderly against his own while his large hands bracketed Will’s face, holding him close. Hannibal was talking about… marriage.

He was fucking insane, and he kissed Will like he wanted to suck his soul right from his mouth. He was a goddamned serial killer, and he was nibbling on Will’s bottom lip in a way that was making him lose his mind. He ate people, and all Will could think about was whether or not Hannibal was in the mood to fuck him blind.

He wanted those big hands to take him apart, but not like he took other people apart. He wanted his fingers buried inside of him, his mouth sucking his flesh until he was bitten raw. He wanted a future with Hannibal, and the thought pissed him off.

Will didn’t get a happily ever after. People like them were doomed to live their lives in blood and ruin.

He bit at Hannibal’s top lip, tugging the man over until he was cradled in the spread of Will’s thighs. Throughout the manhandling, Hannibal’s mouth never separated from his. If anything, Hannibal grasped him closer and devoured his mouth harder, tearing the breath from Will’s lungs with his urgency.

Will could read the underlying tension in Hannibal. His partner believed that at any moment the pieces would click together for Will, and he would be discarded. Hannibal was loving him like it would be the last time he’d get the chance to do so, and it tore his heart to shreds in his chest.

They’d have to have a discussion soon, because it wasn’t fair to keep Hannibal on the line like this.

“I’d like to try something with you,” he said after pulling away from Will’s mouth. His lips were deliciously reddened, his pupils blown wide in his desire.

“Anything,” Will breathed, thrusting heatedly upwards for any friction at all. “Anything you want.”

Hannibal grinned, and with a quick movement, he rolled off the bed. Will blinked in shock, watching Hannibal saunter over to his leather bag to rummage through it. Whatever they were about to do apparently meant losing the weight of Hannibal over his body, and he sort of regretted his decision.

Max bounded over to him the moment he was up, and Hannibal chuckled while petting the over-enthusiastic dog. “Later Max,” he promised, voice a gruff rumble of amusement. “I’ll take you outside later, yes?” Hannibal turned to Will, raising his hand to show him what he’d procured from his shoulder bag.

Will blushed down to his chest at the golden plug, glinting in the low light of the room. It was gleaming and clean, the metal catching the light as Hannibal walked slowly back to the bed. Will noticed a small tube of lubrication clutched with the plug, and the heat of his blush threatened to cook his face. “You brought your… thing,” Will said stupidly.

“I did,” Hannibal agreed, chuckling darkly. He set the plug and lube down on the bedsheets, and Will reached out for it with curious fingers. He felt the bed dip with Hannibal’s weight, his body settling itself between Will’s spread thighs as he laid out against the pillows. The metal was smooth and cold in his hand. It weighed more than he imagined it would, but he supposed that must add to the pleasure of it while it was… inside. He’d held it briefly two nights ago, but… he could barely recall it being in his hand. Will wrapped his fingers around the fattest part of it, measuring the widest part by trying to wrap his fingers around it.

It wasn’t especially girthy, but it was sizeable compared to two or three fingers in width. It curved elegantly, and Will felt hot just thinking about what it would feel like inside of him.

He was so enraptured with the plug that he didn’t realize Hannibal was watching him curiously, his eyes flickering over Will’s face as he turned it in his hands. “I want you to use this on me,” Will said lowly. He was surprised by the timber of his own voice, so needy and lilting. “Please.”

Hannibal wetted his lips, his head tilting a bit as he considered Will’s offer. He was perfectly readable in that moment, and Will relished in it. The thought was arousing to Hannibal, that much was clear. There was another part of him, though, that did not like the idea of using something that wasn’t himself to bring Will pleasure.

“By your reaction the other night,” he said softly, shifting his knees enough that the bed creaked. “I imagined you’d like to use it on me.”

“As much as I loved that,” Will said carefully, closing his legs enough that his bare thighs slid against Hannibal’s hips. “I want to know what it feels like for you. I want to experience it with you. Because of you. Warm me up with this,” he said, holding up the golden plug for Hannibal to take. “So I am ready for this,” he said, sliding his now free hand between Hannibal’s thighs to grip his hard cock under his briefs.

Hannibal shivered, his hips shifting minutely into the grip of Will’s palm. “You want me?”

“Yes,” Will moaned, gripping the thick cock in his palm almost desperately. “Get me ready for you, please.”

It was an offer that Hannibal clearly hadn’t expected, and his reaction was glorious. The clear, rapturous attention was directed only at Will, and he shivered under the scrutiny. “I’m going to take my time,” Hannibal warned him, placing the plug back on the mattress. “All the time I’d like.”

Hannibal leaned over his body to slant their mouths together, a deep kiss that somehow still stayed perfectly gentle. Will relaxed in it, gliding his hands up the soft skin of Hannibal’s back, tracing every bulge of muscle that flexed as he shifted his weight closer.

His soft mouth descended the column of his throat while long fingers threaded through his hair, tipping his head back to make room. Will loved this. Intimacy with Hannibal meant that every single part of his body was worshipped, right down to the curls on his head.

It was like putting a starving man in front of a buffet; Hannibal wanted all of it.

The flat of Hannibal’s tongue licked over his Adam’s apple, slow and languid like a feral cat. He’d never been licked like this before. With Hannibal, he assumed it was something he’d need to learn to accept.

It still made him laugh, though.

Hannibal didn’t need to ask what was so funny this time. His eyes darted up to meet Will’s own, crinkled in amusement while he licked the stubble on Will’s chin.

“What do I taste like?” he asked instead while sweeping the hair aside that had fallen across Hannibal’s forehead.

“Salt,” he said softly, dropping his weight over Will’s body while sliding down to lick and suck at his nipples. “There’s an element to your taste that reminds me of catching snowflakes on my tongue. Sweet and mineral-like.”

“You… just compared me to a snowflake?” Will laughed, arching up into Hannibal’s mouth as he pulled his tight nipple between his teeth. The feel of it shot straight to his groin, making him pulse uncomfortably.

“The taste of you,” Hannibal chuckled, pulling away enough to blow on his damp nipple while circling the puckered flesh with his index finger. He looked utterly delighted when Will shivered from the contact. “I’d never compare you to anything so fragile. You’re made of something stronger, Will. Beautiful, yet unwavering. Somewhere between iron and silver.”

His mouth trailed lower, his tongue dipping into his belly button while his palms spread across his torso, fingertips trailing along every inch of him. One day, he was going to catalogue Hannibal with the same rapt interest as his lover did to him. He wanted it fiercely.

He wanted to know what every inch of Hannibal tasted like, although he had an idea that he wouldn’t pick up snowflake notes in the way that Hannibal did. Hannibal withdrew enough to pull his boxers down his legs, then wiggle out of his own underwear without leaving the bed.

Strong hands gripped the back of his knees, lifting him enough that he was nearly folded in half. He blushed as Hannibal sucked at the head of his cock for only a moment, clearly savoring his taste before descending lower.

He was embarrassingly spready open, and Hannibal used that to drift between his cheeks. The flat of his tongue laved over his hole, pulling a desperate moan from his mouth. He was so turned on it felt like he was dying, and Hannibal suckled at his entrance as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

He heard the cap of the lube open and close, then Hannibal’s mouth trailed back up to pull his cock back into his mouth. A finger breached him carefully, and he clenched around it almost desperately. “C-can’t,” Will gasped. “Hannibal, I’ll come if you keep up like that.”

His lover released his cock from the perfect confines of his mouth, a little moue of displeasure on his face as he watched Will’s cock bob against his abdomen. “You’ll tell me if you’re about to finish,” he said, glancing up with eyes dark as night. “Won’t you?”

Will nodded desperately, wondering when the hell his body had broken out in a full sweat. A second finger spread him open more, but they never delved deeper to tease at that little bundle of nerves inside. It was a good thing because Will felt desperately close as it was already.

His fingers stretched him for a few more minutes before withdrawing completely. He heard the cap of the lube again, and Hannibal’s eyes met his. “It will feel strange at first,” he said lowly. “Trust me, please.”

“I do,” Will moaned, his eyes leaving Hannibal’s to watch the way he slickened the golden plug with his long fingers. “Oh God, I do.”

The smooth tip of it was pressed against his entrance, and Will winced at the cold feel of the metal breaching him. It warmed to his body temperature quickly, though.

It slid inside of him smoothly, stretching him open wider as he pressed the fattest part of the object against Will’s rim. He didn’t allow it to enter any further than that, and it felt weird as fuck. Will panted, adjusting himself on the mattress while Hannibal held it still, stretching Will’s body open with it.

He slid it back, and there was no two ways about it, it felt like taking a shit. Will felt his erection flagging, and Hannibal dipped down to suck his cock back into his mouth while pressing it back inside.

He hardened again in the confines of Hannibal’s mouth, his clever tongue preventing him from doing anything else. He felt the plug stretch him again, then withdraw, over and over until the stretch no longer felt uncomfortable at all.

With no warning, Hannibal eased the plug inside of him completely.

He felt the fattest part of it slip inside, his muscles locking down against the narrow end near the handle. It felt just as heavy inside of him, and he clenched around it as though trying to get it to feel good.

If he were being honest, it kind of didn’t.

Hannibal released his cock from his mouth, laving the head once with the flat of his tongue. One hand gripped the flesh of his thigh while the other gripped the handle of the plug, and he turned the device inside of him.

The curved end suddenly made perfect, obvious, sense.

It rested squarely over that little pleasure center inside, and Will writhed on the bed in an effort to get it to fucking move. Hannibal chuckled, pressing down on the handle gently, and it immediately put pressure where he wanted it the most.

Will was certain he’d never made a noise like the one he made in that moment in his entire life.

“Is it good, beloved?” Hannibal asked lowly while wiggling the handle, so it pummeled that little nub inside of him.

He tried to say it was good, but the word elongated and became a throaty moan that stuttered with each tease of the device. He curled his toes in the air, reaching out blindly to grip the flesh of Hannibal’s side in clawing hands. The pressure relented, and he gulped through a breath while Hannibal gave him a break.

“How the fuck did you sit through dinners like this?” he gasped.

“It’s not like this when you just have it inside of you,” he promised. “It feels more like this,” he said, pressing firmly on the handle to mimic a seated position.

The pleasure was relentless. Will felt sweat roll from his chest into his clavicle, and he shook his head. “Too much,” he whined. “Still too much.”

“Some men are sensitive to prostate stimulation,” he said almost clinically while watching Will’s face raptly. He shifted the device back again, stretching him wide around the fattest part of it. “You are very, very, sensitive. It’s beautiful to witness, Will.”

He pressed the device back inside, rolling the handle in his palm while watching Will shake apart. “Please,” he gasped, trying desperately to get it to roll against his prostate harder. “Oh God, please.”

“I think you’ll come the moment I bury myself inside of you,” he said, voice gritty and lilting. His eyes danced over Will’s sweat-slick body, settling heavily on his face. “Could you come twice?”

He honestly had no fucking idea, but if he could, it would be for Hannibal. “Yes,” he promised weakly.

Hannibal withdrew the device from him, stopping along the way to leave him stretching around the widest part of it again. He clenched around it desperately, and Hannibal growled before tossing it aside. Hannibal’s hands shook as he slicked his dripping cock with more lube, then pressed the head against Will's fluttering rim.

His girth was far more substantial than the plug. Without realizing it, he clenched up in anxiety.

Hannibal shushed him, stroking along his thigh, then his ribs as he slid back up Will’s body. Their mouths met in a sweat-damp kiss while the blunt head of his cock pressed inside. His body opened for Hannibal easily, but it didn’t do so without complaint. It felt like burning. Like Hannibal was carving open a space inside of him that only he could fill.

Soft lips slid against his while his hands lifted Will’s knees, resting them over his strong forearms. The position made it easier for Hannibal to press in, and Will gasped in his mouth as the head of his cock pressed relentlessly against his prostate.

He wasn’t even moving yet, and Will could barely breathe. The unforgiving pressure made his limbs tremble, and his insides turn to liquid. His back arched, pressing his chest into Hannibal’s, and he fucking came.

His vision blackened, his body clenching rhythmically around Hannibal’s cock. It felt so god damned good to clench down on something while he came, completely untouched, pulsing hot between their stomachs.

Hannibal slid back gently, then in again, and it prolonged his orgasm to the point where he wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe. He grasped Hannibal’s face in his hands, biting down on his lip for the exquisite torture he was putting him through, and Hannibal growled.

Without realizing it, he had prodded the beast, and he was going to get fucked for it.

His hips snapped against Will’s in earnest, burying himself deep inside of Will at a pace that made his eyes roll back in his head. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He was completely surrounded by Hannibal, impaled on him, breathless with the probing kisses that demanded more of him than anyone else ever had.

Hannibal’s monster was consumptive in nature, and he was gorging himself on Will with abandon.

Every deep thrust of his cock landed squarely where it drove Will insane. His body wasn’t coaxed into arousal again so much as it was exorcized out of him like a demon that refused to cooperate.

He wanted to plead for mercy. He wanted to beg for more.

He wanted everything Hannibal could give him, and he wanted to give Hannibal all he had.

Hannibal pounded into him, licking into his mouth, grasping him with desperate fingers that were going to leave bruises in their wake. Will clawed him closer, using his fingernails to dig into the meat of Hannibal’s back to urge him on.

It worked beautifully.

The desperate roar of pleasure echoed between them, Hannibal’s eyes flashing down at him dangerously. He looked wild and feral, a dangerous thing that Will had somehow tamed enough to love him. His body was being thrust up the bed with the force of Hannibal’s vigor, so Will reached up to brace one hand against the wall while the other reached up to stroke gently against the sharp plane of a cheekbone.

Hannibal flinched as though he’d been slapped, air chuffing out his nose in disbelief. His eyes softened after a moment, and his pace immediately relented.

He pressed deep, but he wasn’t fucking into Will with abandon anymore. Without meaning to, Will had shifted their gears with the gentle touch. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

It was still unbelievably pleasurable. Will’s body felt like liquid fire, every flex of Hannibal’s hips stoking his insides to a flame. He was going to come again, and it was going to be unlike any orgasm he’d ever had before it. He hoped Hannibal wouldn’t take him passing out the wrong way.

Soft lips pressed against his embarrassingly sweaty forehead, then trailed down to press kisses against his cheek. A soft tongue darted out to lick the sweat from his skin, and Will laughed while tugging him down for another kiss.

Hannibal smothered him in his entire weight, fucking into him languidly while pressing Will’s cock between their stomachs. The added stimulation felt like a knife to his gut, and he gasped into Hannibal’s mouth, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist to grip the meat of his ass in his hands.

Instead of thrusting, Hannibal ground against him, keeping his cock buried deep while flexing his hips minutely. The pleasure of it was insane, so Will gripped his ass hard in his hands and pressed him deeper. Hannibal licked at his mouth, his tongue tracing Will’s lips almost curiously while holding Will’s bicep in one hand.

His cock was teased between their stomachs, rubbed deliciously by their sweaty skin and proximity. “Hannibal,” Will sighed, boldly leaning forward to lick Hannibal’s top lip, earning a gentle smile in response.

The hand that had been holding his bicep slid up, touching the bone of his jawline affectionately before he was kissed as deeply as he was being fucked. It was all it took.

Will barely made a noise as he came. It was more a wounded gust of breath that escaped his mouth, as he could not do anything more than that. His orgasm crashed over him with a force like he’d never experienced, and he struggled to pull in a breath. Hannibal thrust more purposefully, and each strike against his prostate made his orgasm tumble over and over, making it feel endless and brutally intense.

With a guttural moan, Hannibal buried himself deep as he came, too. Will held him close, trying desperately to get his twitching muscles to move. He was still pulsing around Hannibal’s cock, his entire body clenching and releasing with each wave of his orgasm.

He didn’t pass out, but it was close.

Hannibal stayed buried inside of him while they came back down from their highs, stroking his skin affectionately with his fingertips. Will pressed a kiss to his temple, holding him close while he shook apart at the intensity of their intimacy.

“I wanted to be very gentle with you for your first time,” Hannibal said reproachfully. Will wished he could see his face, but it was buried in the crook of his neck. “I hope I did not hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Will promised, lacing his fingers through Hannibal’s damp hair. “You can do this to me any time you want,” he laughed.

Hannibal lifted his head, looking down at Will with a scrutinizing expression on his face. “I lost myself in you,” he said softly. “I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can do that,” Will replied, wincing as Hannibal softened enough to slide out of him. “I want you exactly as you are, Hannibal. This was incredible, and you’re not allowed to feel bad about any of it. Okay?”

Soft lips pressed gently against his, Hannibal’s eyes fluttering closed as Will kissed him back just as sweetly. “Okay,” Hannibal sighed.

Chapter Text

Hannibal took him to his appointment the next morning, where he was cleared to return to work the following week. His bloodwork and MRI were perfect, and everything else seemed to be exactly as it should be. He felt much better, as evidenced by the return of his perceptive focus. He was officially off his steroids, and in a week, he could have a fucking drink if he wanted to.

God, did he want to.

Barring the return of any symptoms, his next check-up wasn’t for another three months.

He was free. Healthy and free, and he smiled to himself while Hannibal drove them back to Wolf Trap. “You can drive now,” Hannibal said encouragingly. “By this Friday, we can have a drink by the fire together again.”

“I was just thinking about that,” Will laughed. “God, I’ve missed evenings like that. Thanks for coming with me today.”

“Anything, beloved,” Hannibal promised, lacing their fingers over the shifter.

The appointment ate up most of the day, as they’d sat around for several hours while waiting for results to come back from the lab. Will was more than a little depressed about that, because he thought they’d have some time to themselves afterwards.

It was nearing on five in the afternoon, and he knew Hannibal had work the next day. “When we get to your house,” Hannibal said, bringing Will’s hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles, “we’ll celebrate.”

“How did you know I was mooning?” Will laughed.

“You looked at the clock and glared at it like it offended your family,” Hannibal mused, eyes bright when he glanced Will’s way.

“Just didn’t think the appointment would take so long,” he sighed. “I should know. I worked in the lab at the BAU. Testing takes time. Maybe… on Friday we could spend the weekend together? Would you want that?”

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed immediately, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. “You can come to me as early as you please on Friday morning.”

“With my dogs?” Will asked hesitantly.

“That goes without saying,” he laughed. “I promised to take Max for a walk, and never made good on the offer. Whatever must he think of me.”

“He thinks the world of you,” Will grinned, squeezing his hand affectionately. “We can walk them when we get back to the house.”

The drive back to Wolf Trap was quiet, both a bit tired from their late night and early morning. Hannibal’s phone rang as they were getting out of the car, and he winced while looking down to see who was calling. “Jack?” Will asked, and Hannibal nodded while answering the call.

“Good evening, Jack,” he said politely, yanking Will to his side to hold him close.

Will chuckled, leaning into him to press a kiss against his throat. He could hear the booming echo of Jack’s voice, though he couldn’t hear what was being said.

“I see,” Hannibal sighed. “At the Baltimore Opera House?”

Hannibal sighed again while Jack continued, and he held Will a little closer. “I just returned to Wolf Trap to drop Will off from his appointment, so I am about an hour away. I’ll be there as soon as I can, however.”

There were a few more words from Jack, and Hannibal pressed a kiss against Will’s temple. “It’s alright. I told you that you had me for the remainder of this week, and I will hold to it. See you soon.”

He hung up without another word, and Will felt him grip his side. “I have to go,” he said miserably, tilting Will’s face up with two fingers. “They’ve found a body that’s been made into a musical instrument, apparently.”

“Baltimore has all the weirdos,” Will chuckled. “Thank you for this weekend.”

“Give Max my regards,” Hannibal said with a small smile. “I’ll make it up to him this weekend.”

“I’ll tell him,” Will laughed, closing his eyes as Hannibal leaned in to kiss him soundly. It felt like Hannibal wanted to toss him back in the car and drag him home with him, but he pulled away after a moment.

“I’ll call you this week,” Hannibal promised. “Perhaps you could come Thursday evening after my appointments? We could wake up Friday together.”

“I’d like that,” Will agreed, letting him go so he could climb back in his car.

He watched Hannibal drive away before heading towards his house to let his dogs out.

The following day went by slowly, but Will enjoyed the quiet day with his dogs. The sun was out and warmer than it had been, so he packed his fishing gear and headed to his stream. The activity made him tired, but not exhausted. It was welcomed to have something in his day that kept him busy.

He headed back to his house around three with a trout he planned to eat for dinner. Prepping the fish and cooking it took up time too, and he appreciated the distraction.

He winced while sitting down for his dinner, as he was still… sore from the night before. He’d felt Hannibal all day, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. After dinner, he took a shower, marveling at all the little bruises covering his body. Some were from groping fingers, some were from nipping love bites.

All were appreciated while Will stood in front of his bathroom mirror, touching them with a silly grin on his face.

Just as he was climbing into bed, his cell phone rang. It startled him, as no one had called him so late in nearly a month. He unplugged it from the charger, smiling down at the screen before answering the call. “Miss me already?” he teased.

“I missed you the moment I closed my car door last night,” Hannibal admitted gruffly. “I should have told Jack that last week was my final week consulting.”

“Oh boy,” Will chuckled. “Been busy?”

“I should not speak of this with you,” Hannibal sighed.

“Talk to me,” Will pressed. “I can handle it, Hannibal.”

“The body that was found at the Baltimore Opera House was made into… some kind of human cello. I was at that scene until rather late last night, and Jack called me all day while I was in session with my patients because he wanted me to come to the BAU as soon as possible.”

“Human cello?” Will repeated in disbelief.

“Yes.” He sounded exasperated. “Once my appointments were concluded today, I went to the BAU to find out what Jack needed, and it was… mostly an utter waste of my time. The string used to make the killer’s instrument looked like catgut string, but it was made from the… intestines of several different people, none being the victim.”

“Jesus,” Will sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Jack believes it’s the Ripper,” Hannibal said with a sigh. “Nothing about the scene felt like the Ripper to me, and no matter how much I stressed it, Jack would not hear it.”

Will grinned to himself, knowing full-well that it couldn’t have been the Ripper. The Ripper was with him the night before, and all day on Monday. “The Ripper makes elaborate displays of his victims,” Will said instead. “What makes you think it’s not him?”

“I suppose I don’t know,” Hannibal said carefully. “There were organs missing, yes. But only the ones needed to… hollow the body cavity. He’s also never used organs from other victims in his displays. I don’t… I don’t know how you’ve done this for as long as you have. He asks for my opinion and wastes my time with demanding my presence but does not listen to a word I have to say about any of it.”

“It’s… frustrating,” Will decided. “I guess I’ve forgotten how annoying it can be. What did you think about the display?”

There was a pause on the other end before a gruff sigh. “I think this killer is wooing the Ripper,” he said softly. “I think it’s an attempt to make contact.”

Will sat up in his bed, his heart hammering in his chest. “Why do you think that?”

Another beat of dead silence that made Will nervous. “I guess I couldn’t say,” he said very carefully. “There were flowers at the scene. Protea, Primrose, Green Carnations, Red roses and yellow rhododendron. The specific message in flower language is crystal clear. He believes himself to be in love with a man who he feels connected to, and longs to make contact with him by showing him that they are the same. The attempt comes with a warning that he is very jealous, and will not accept rejection.

“When I told Jack of it, he brushed me off. He thinks the scene is the Ripper, and he won’t hear anything to the contrary. I just want to be done with this, Will. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had an evening to myself.”

So someone was courting Hannibal. Someone that was very, very, much like him. It caused a flare of unreasonable jealousy, but he tampered it down. Hannibal loved him, no matter what psychopaths desired him for themselves.

His lover sounded completely on edge because of it, and he wondered about that, too. Hannibal was a murderer with no time to murder anyone. He was fully aware of how people like Hannibal could lash out if they had no way to vent their frustrations. “If you want, I can come to you on Friday night instead,” he said softly. “Give you an evening to relax.” Go kill someone, he kept to himself.

“I feel spread too thin,” Hannibal said softly, “but never when it comes to you. I want you to come Thursday, beloved. More than that, I need you to.”

“Unless Jack needs you Thursday night,” Will pointed out ruefully.

“I would say no,” Hannibal said immediately. “I told him tonight that he has me if he needs me tomorrow, but after that I am not available because I will be busy.”

Jack doesn’t operate that way,” he laughed. “If you promised him a week, then in his head, he owns you until 11:59 pm on Saturday.”

“Luckily for me, I make my own schedule,” Hannibal agreed with a huff of laughter. “He can call all he wants. I will not bend for him or anyone else. Tell me about your day, please. I find myself needing to hear your voice.”

“Well,” Will blushed. “Not much to tell, really. I woke up late, had breakfast. Fed my dogs. I uh… went fishing this afternoon.”

“Did you?” Hannibal said, and he could hear the smile in his voice. “How was that?”

“So goddamned relaxing,” Will chuckled. “I haven’t been fishing while I was healthy in… God, probably close to a year. I needed it more than I can say. I caught a trout, but it took three hours. Didn’t feel like three hours though. Felt like… like five minutes. After I caught him, I just… sat by the stream with my dogs. I watched a hawk circle over my head. Got a little sunburn on my cheeks.”

“How I wish I’d have spent the day with you,” Hannibal sighed. “How is my dog?”

“Max is fine,” Will laughed. “He’s sleeping now, but… he pulled the bath towel you used off the hook and slept with it. Misses you, I think.”

“That’s…” Hannibal struggled for a moment. “Terribly sweet.”

“You think that,” Will laughed. “He’ll pee on it by tomorrow, I’d bet money on it.”

“Indirectly marking me as his,” Hannibal sounded weirdly proud. “I find I can understand that more than I’d like to admit.”

Will reached up absently, stroking a love bite on the base of his throat. “I bet you can.”

He didn’t hear from Hannibal on Wednesday or Thursday, but he knew the poor man was probably being ran ragged by Jack for the last few hours he could have him. Thursday night, he gathered his dogs and shoved them in his Volvo before heading off for Hannibal’s house.

It was dark by the time he rolled up, but being winter, it wasn’t after six yet. Max tugged his leash all the way up the steps, knowing full-well where he was and who he was about to see.

Will jumped in surprise as the door was yanked open right as he was about to knock, and he laughed at the delight on Hannibal’s face. “See how that feels?” he teased.

“Unnerving,” he decided, laughter bubbling out of him at the sight of Max pretty much jumping on Hannibal the moment he saw him. Hannibal didn’t dissuade him, he instead got down on his knee and worked the dog up further, ruffling his fur while Max hopped in place. His other dogs were happy to see him, but kept their distance because of Max’s exuberance.

The rare, unrestrained, full belly laugh that Hannibal made when Max licked his face made Will’s stomach drop out. It was honest and beautifully innocent, and Will wondered if Hannibal had laughed like that since he was a boy. He guessed it wasn’t likely.

Hannibal stood up, brushing his knee off while petting Max gently. Will hauled him closer right on the front porch, kissing him like he was about to go off to war instead of invite him in for a quiet evening together.

He seemed slightly surprised by the intensity of the kiss, but he definitely didn’t pull away. He held Will closer, kissed him deeper, all while his dogs tugged his arms in various directions. They probably looked nuts, but Will couldn’t give a shit.

By the time they parted, Hannibal’s face was flushed, and his lips were deliciously damp and reddened. He looked perfectly edible, and Will shivered at the intensity of his heavy gaze. “I love you,” Will said, because he couldn’t imagine not saying it in that moment. “Almost more than Max does,” he amended to lighten the mood a bit.

“I’m a lucky man,” Hannibal grinned, breaking eye contact to hide his deepening blush. “Come in, beloved.”

Will followed him into the house where Hannibal helped him take off all of his dogs’ leashes to hang them up in the foyer. He wasn’t allowed to take off his own coat, as Hannibal stepped in to help him thoroughly. His fingertips traced through the flannel shirt he was wearing, savoring the heat of his skin through the button-down. “I’d have been here earlier, but there was an accident on I-95,” Will apologized.

“Please,” Hannibal said dismissively, leaning in for another chaste kiss. “You’re right on time. Have the dogs had their dinner, yet?”

Will nodded while following Hannibal into the kitchen. “Fed them before leaving the house.”

“And did you eat?” Hannibal asked, hovering worriedly over the stove where a few pans were simmering away.

“I did not,” Will admitted.

“Good,” Hannibal sighed. “I was momentarily worried over all the food I made. I’ve made the dogs a pan as well, but they can have it tomorrow.”

“You know you don’t have to do all of this. We could have ordered out. You’ve been busting your ass, and I don’t like making extra work for you.”

Hannibal set out two plates, glancing up at Will with an arched eyebrow. “I enjoy cooking. It isn’t work for me, Will. I know others view making dinner as a chore, but I liken this to how you must feel when you’re by your stream. It’s peaceful for me to make something beautiful out of raw ingredients. I love it, if I’m to be entirely honest. I’ve found myself stressed this week, as I missed cooking for myself.”

“I’m not complaining,” Will laughed, moving around the counter because the narrow dip of Hannibal’s waist was calling to him. He wrapped his arms around his waist while he worked at the stove and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ve never eaten as good as I have since I’ve met you.”

“I can’t express how much that pleases me,” Hannibal chuckled, pausing in his work to hold Will’s arms around his waist. “Now shoo, please. Dinner will be ready in only a moment.”

Will pressed another kiss to his shoulder before heading off to check on his mutts.

The doorbell rang as he passed through the foyer, and he startled at the sound. His stomach dropped out at the thought that maybe Hannibal had invited Alana or Jack again, but he doubted it as Hannibal hadn’t said anything to him. “I got it,” he called out, opening the door with an army of dogs at his legs.

A well-dressed, dark-skinned man stood on the steps, looking almost surprised at the fact that Will opened the door. “Can I help you?” Will asked hesitantly.

“Is this the home of Doctor Hannibal Lecter?” he wondered, his voice low and even.

“Who’s asking?” Will asked, less politely than he maybe should.

“I apologize,” the man said. His facial expression did not change whatsoever, and he frankly gave Will the creeps. “I am a friend of a patient of his, and there are a few concerns I have over his… treatment.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Will blurted. “You don’t just… show up at their doctor’s home.”

“I apologize,” he repeated dully.

“Will?” Hannibal called from behind him. “Who is it?”

“Don’t know,” Will said pointedly, glaring at the man who had not introduced himself fully. “Said he’s a friend of your patient.”

Hannibal shooed the dogs away, moving to stand by Will’s side. “Can I help you?”

The man’s facial expression finally changed, and he looked absolutely smitten by Hannibal. It frankly pissed Will off. “I am here on behalf of Franklyn.”

“Ah,” Hannibal said. “This is highly irregular, Mr…?”

“May we speak privately?” he asked instead of introducing himself.

Will didn’t like the idea of that at all, but Hannibal touched his side gently. “We will stay right where we are. I’m sure you understand?” The man nodded, and Hannibal turned to Will. “Give us only a moment, please.”

He walked away only far enough to turn the corner into the study, where he could hear everything and respond if the man grew violent. “Did you like my gift?” the man asked.

“You’ll forgive me,” Hannibal said lowly. “Your gift?”

“A musician such as yourself needs an instrument, does he not?” the man said. Will’s stomach dropped out, and he glanced around for a weapon. There was a letter opener on the desk, and he went to get it without thought. He came back to the entryway, loitering out of sight. By stepping away for even the few seconds he was gone, he’d clearly missed a few things.

“-my home,” Hannibal was saying. “Whatever it is you think you know, you’re mistaken.”

The man’s voice dipped lower than he could hear, and he strained to pick up anything at all. Something about following Hannibal, and a bus. Whatever he said made Hannibal go utterly silent, and Will gripped the letter opener tighter in his fist. His response was equally silent, and Will couldn’t pick up anything aside from the rumble of Hannibal’s rushed response.

The soft dulcet tone of the man’s laugh made the hair on Will’s arms stand up. “This is my last offer,” he said softly. “You and I… we’re made for one another. You’ll see it once your distraction is gone.”

Will couldn’t stay hidden after that, and he came around the corner with the letter opener in his pocket. “Is everything okay?”

Hannibal nodded. “Tobias was just leaving,” he said, tilting his head at Tobias to get him to disagree with that statement. “Weren’t you?”

Tobias hesitated, glancing at Will with narrowed eyes. “I was,” he agreed reluctantly. “Thank you for speaking with me, Dr. Lecter. Good evening, Mr. Graham.”

He left abruptly, and Will bristled. “You gave him my name?”

Hannibal was utterly still beside him, his eyes watching Tobias as he walked down the street. “I did not,” he said lowly. Will wasn’t speaking with his lover anymore, but instead with the beast that lurked under his skin. Every muscle was locked tight, his eyes narrowed on the man dangerously. “Let’s have dinner, shall we?”

“How did he know my name, Hannibal?” Will asked indignantly.

“My patient must have told him,” Hannibal said reasonably while closing the door. “You’ve met him in the waiting area a few times.”

“Have I?” Will asked doubtfully.

“Yes,” Hannibal said distractedly. “Come. Let’s relax.”

Throughout the entire dinner, Hannibal was completely preoccupied. His eyes kept glancing out towards the window, his posture rigid with something Will was hesitant to name. Will helped him with the dishes once they were done eating, then put his dogs out in the small backyard off the back entryway.

They retired to the study where Hannibal poured them each a drink, his back turned and rigid while Will perused his bookshelves. “What did he want from you, Hannibal?”

“He was concerned about his friend,” Hannibal lied. “He’s unwell.”

“Your patient, or that man?” Will asked boldly.

“Both,” he said, at least honest about that much. He handed Will his glass, and he took it with a sigh. His first drink in over a month, and he needed it more than he cared to admit.

“You’re not being honest with me,” Will said after a sip of his scotch. It tasted somewhat bitter, but Will figured it was because he hadn’t had a drink in a while, and he tended to prefer whisky over scotch.

“I can’t be more honest than this,” Hannibal replied, restlessly pacing the study as though waiting for something. “Patient confidentiality,” he reasoned.

Will sipped his drink, moving to the sofa to absorb the heat from the fireplace. “He knew me by sight, Hannibal,” Will pressed. “He knew who I was just by looking at me.”

“I know,” Hannibal agreed, his shoulders going utterly rigid. “I’ll speak with him. It’s not… appropriate to come to someone’s home like that. I have a feeling we won’t be seeing him again.”

Will hummed after another sip, settling in the cushions. The heat of the drink made him drowsy, so he settled into the couch with a sigh. “Scotch is strong,” he said slowly.

“You’ve lost your tolerance,” Hannibal supplied, watching Will carefully. “Perhaps you should set the rest aside, beloved.”

Will sipped it again before placing it on the end table, and that’s all he remembered before nodding off.

He woke up with a pounding headache, wrapped tight in the heavy blankets of Hannibal’s bed. The clock on the nightstand said eleven, and he struggled to understand if that meant eleven at night, or eleven in the morning.

He sat up slowly, rubbing the heavy grogginess from his eyes while stumbling to the curtains to tug them back. Bright daylight made him slam the curtains closed, and he swayed on his feet for a moment. He’d slept for likely thirteen hours.

How the fuck did that happen?

He went to the bathroom immediately, as his bladder was about to burst. His mind was sluggish and delayed, struggling to put the pieces of the previous night together.

Tobias. He remembered him clearly. Will also remembered having a drink with Hannibal in his study, but… it was fuzzy. He didn’t remember even finishing the drink.

He washed his hands, pressing cool water against his face as the pieces clicked together.

Hannibal had fucking drugged him.

There was no other explanation. One minute he’s awake and pissed off, the next he’s in bed thirteen hours later. Tobias was very likely dead, and Hannibal knocked Will out to creep out of the house and kill him.

They’d need to have a discussion, because Will didn’t like being goddamned roofied so that Hannibal could sneak in and out as he pleased.

The grogginess was intense, so he stripped down and climbed into the shower to wake himself up. He kept the water on the cooler side, shivering a bit as his limbs were forced awake.

By the time he came downstairs, Hannibal was in the kitchen, humming while plating something at the kitchen counter. His eyes sparkled as he glanced up at Will, a beaming little smile on his face. “Good morning, beloved.”

“More like afternoon,” he countered groggily.

“You needed your rest,” Hannibal said dismissively, plating a heaping spoon of protein scramble onto a plate. It was littered with rich cuts of meat, and Will recalled the last one he’d made. The one that was likely made of Cassie Boyle. “Perhaps it was too soon for such a strong drink.”

Will took his plate with an outstretched hand, too tired to shlep to the dining room. Hannibal sat to his side at the kitchen stool, his portion somewhat smaller than Will’s own. “Did you eat already?”

“Earlier,” Hannibal admitted. “Just a bit as I wanted to have breakfast with you.”

Will took a few bites of his scramble, knowing with certainty that he was eating Tobias, whoever he was.

“Don’t drug me again,” Will blurted fiercely, making Hannibal go utterly still beside him. “The hardest drugs I’ve ever done in my life are aspirins. I feel like my fucking head is splitting in half.”

“Will,” Hannibal said, voice completely stricken. “I did not-”

“Don’t,” Will interjected. “I’d rather sins of omission than outright lies, Hannibal,” he said, rubbing his temple. “What did you give me, anyway? Roofies?”

“I didn’t…” he stammered, coming to his feet slowly to move around the counter. “Will, I swear to you that I did not…”

“You did,” Will pressed, tossing his fork into his plate. “I don’t know what Tobias said to you, but if you had to go kill him, I’d rather you’d have pretended there was an emergency than knock me out like that.”

All the color in Hannibal’s face drained right out, his eyes narrowing on Will in a way that should have raised alarm. “Perhaps you’re unwell,” he said clinically. “I may schedule an appointment with Donald to ascertain whether or not you’re-”

“Sick again?” Will scoffed, picking up his steaming coffee mug that Hannibal had put out for him. “You and I both know that I am perfectly healthy. I am asking you as my partner, as my other half, not to drug me ever again.”

Hannibal swallowed thickly, clearly debating what he could say at this point. “What is it that you think you know about me, Will?”

“You’re the Chesapeake Ripper,” Will finally acknowledged out loud. Hannibal looked… utterly resigned, and Will continued. “You’re the copycat murderer. You’re very likely a few different killers that we’ve never considered to be the same person. Tobias’ human instrument was for you, wasn’t it?”

Hannibal stayed completely silent, so Will forked another bite of fluffy eggs and meat into his mouth. “You sound very certain,” Hannibal said, tinging his voice with indignation.

“I am,” Will replied evenly. “Before you do something crazy like knock me out and disappear, please know that I figured it out a week ago. I haven’t told anyone, and I have no intention of telling anyone.”

“If I were a serial killer,” he said carefully, moving around the counter in a slow movement that exuded predatory warning. “It would be very careless of you to tell me, then confess that no one else knows that you know it.”

Will laughed, and his head pounded in response. “You won’t hurt me, Hannibal. You’ll drug me blind, but you’d never hurt me.”

“If I am who you think I am,” he continued, clear bafflement written on every line of his face, “why wouldn’t you turn me in?”

“Because I love you,” Will said easily, tilting his face up to look at Hannibal who was now looming over him. “Because I understand you. Because I’d rather you stay in my life, doing whatever it is you do, than lose you altogether.”

“Love isn’t enough to forgive such a thing,” he said softly, glancing away from Will carefully.

“My love for you is enough,” Will replied, keeping his tone just as soft.

“If I am… the Ripper,” he said, tipping his head as though he couldn’t believe he’d just admitted that much. “Then what is it that I do with my trophies? You’ve seen my home. I don’t keep jars of organs around, do I?”

Will brought another bite to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with Hannibal while putting the delicate cut of meat on his tongue. He chewed slowly, watching the minute emotions roll across his partner’s face. “A butcher doesn’t keep trophies from pigs he’s slaughtered, does he?”

Hannibal’s breath left him in a rush, and Will reached out to grip his wrist to keep him close. It was… possibly a poor decision, as his dangerous partner was definitely feeling vulnerable and trapped.

Two things you never want to do to a predator with teeth and claws.

Hannibal snatched his throat in his hand, growling while pulling Will up onto his feet. In the blink of an eye, he was smashed into the cabinets behind him, held there by an arm made of steel and a body ready to render someone apart.

His lip was lifted in a snarl, his eyes dilated and dangerous. Will knew he needed to bring his loved one back to him if he meant to survive this.

He reached up slowly, grunting as his vision blackened and flickered. With a loving hand, he stroked the soft skin of Hannibal’s cheekbone.

The result was immediate. Hannibal choked on a sob, releasing Will instantaneously. They both crumpled to the floor, Will gasping for breath, and Hannibal gasping through a sharp sob.

Once his vision cleared and he no longer felt like he was going to pass out, he wiggled closer until he could wrap his broken man in his arms, holding him tight. Hannibal’s arms banded around him like steel, squeezing him so tight that Will’s breath huffed out of him. “You know,” Hannibal gasped.

“I know,” Will agreed, stroking his hand through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re not leaving me,” he said, although it sounded more like a question.

“I am not leaving you,” Will confirmed, pressing a kiss to his lover’s temple. “I know you. I see you. And I love you. Not in spite of who you are, but because of it.”

“Will,” Hannibal pleaded, though Will was certain he had no idea what he wanted.

He leaned back, and Hannibal swiped furiously at his eyes to hide his tears. Will stroked his damp cheeks with his thumbs, leaning forward to press a kiss to each eyelid. “Never lie to me about anything. Not ever again.”

“I promise you,” Hannibal agreed, hugging Will tighter to himself. “I will never lie to you.”

“Never drug me again either,” Will made him promise.

“I promise,” he repeated, rocking Will in his arms. “I promise you, Will.” Gentle fingers came up, touching the raw skin of his throat. “I am sorry, beloved. So very sorry.”

Will swallowed, and sure enough, it hurt. “I should have maybe told you that I knew in a less… provoking way. I was pretty fucking mad that you drugged me, though.”

“You are frighteningly susceptible to sedatives,” Hannibal said worriedly. “I gave you less than half what I usually give to my…”

“Victims?” Will wondered, raising an eyebrow at Hannibal, who nodded.

“Yes,” he agreed, although reluctantly. “Your recovery may be why, but… it scared me. I stayed with you until your blood pressure returned to normal. I’ll never do that to you again, I swear it.”

Hannibal pressed a kiss to his temple before coming to his feet, helping Will to come to his as well. He placed Will back on the stool, unbuttoning his shirt so he could see his throat more clearly. “It won’t bruise,” Hannibal assured him. He pressed his fingers under Will’s jawline, tilting his head up. “Swallow,” he instructed.

Will swallowed, and his partner nodded his head as though he were satisfied. “What did Tobias say to you that you felt the need to dash off on our date night?”

Hannibal’s fingers were still worrying over his throat, his face utterly unreadable. “He said that he and I were made for one another,” he recalled with a grimace. “He said that the reason I couldn’t see it was because of you. He told me that he’d be rid of you, and then I would see him. He… planned to kill you, and I could not allow that to happen.”

“How did he know who you were?” Will asked, batting Hannibal’s hands away.

“He followed me one night,” he said softly. “To a display I left on a bus. I did not know I was followed. I’ve met Tobias before. He attended an opera with a patient of mine. I regret to say that I failed to notice his… interest in me.”

“Did you display Tobias?” he asked carefully.

Hannibal shook his head. “He’s merely… disappeared. The link between him and my patient is too close for comfort.”

“What parts of him did I eat for breakfast, Hannibal?”

“Does it matter?” he countered evenly.

Will thought about it, then shrugged. “Guess not.”

“Can you swallow?” he asked, utter misery laced through his tone.

“I am fine,” Will assured him, and he wasn’t lying, either. His throat was sore, but Hannibal hadn’t pressed hard. Well, not as hard as he could have, anyway.

“If you don’t want… what I’ve made for you, I can make you something else? Let me get you a fresh cup of coffee, yes?” Hannibal darted off to gather Will’s cup, his face still red and splotchy from being shocked into tears.

Will grasped his wrist, hauling him over to calm him down. “Hannibal,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around his narrow waist. “Please. I’ll get a new cup of coffee in a minute. What I need right now is for you to relax.”

The tension in his body lessened as the minutes passed, until eventually Hannibal was almost boneless in his arms. He pet through Will’s hair with such gentle care that the affection almost felt like a tickle. “You’ve known this entire week.”

“Yes,” Will agreed softly.

“Before or after I made love to you on Sunday evening?”

“Before,” Will replied, hugging him tighter. “I pieced it together when I made that fishing lure.”

“I am consistently amazed at how perceptive you are when you’re not… unwell,” Hannibal decided. “If you weren’t sick, you’d likely have realized what I was the moment you met me.”

“I’m not clairvoyant,” Will snorted. “It might’ve taken me a week at least. What the hell did Cassie Boyle do to you?”

“She blew cigarette smoke in my face,” Hannibal said immediately. “It was so startlingly rude that I took her lungs for it.”

“She was in my first protein scramble, wasn’t she?”

Hannibal was silent for a few moments before he let out a breath. “Yes,” he agreed hesitantly. “It’s… incomprehensible to me that you’re so accepting of this.”

“I don’t know that I am,” Will admitted. He pulled away, putting some distance between them while he sorted out his feelings. He kept his eyes planted firmly on the tile flooring as he paced the kitchen, noticing Max loitering by the doorway. “I told you that it felt… good to kill Hobbs.”

“You did,” Hannibal said carefully.

“What would have made it better is if… is if I would have killed him with my hands,” Will admitted in a rush. “If I could have choked the very life out of him while watching him die. He deserved worse than he got. I relooked at what I’d do differently now that I know you, and… I would have done what you do to him, just… slower. I’d have kept him alive for as long as I could, feeding him his own body parts until there was nothing left of him. I’d let him honor himself the way he honored those girls. Legs first, then arms. Then… I don’t know. Whatever body parts inside he could do without.”

“His spleen,” Hannibal said, eyes almost dreamy as he considered the idea. “Then one kidney. One lung. You’d be amazed how long a person can live without a liver. I could have made desserts from his blood. Sanguinaccio Dolce. A blood pudding, of a sort.”

“How fucking messed up am I?” Will asked ruefully. “I wish we’d have met him now.”

“There will be others,” Hannibal promised him darkly.

Will raised his eyes, taking in Hannibal’s disbelieving expression. “Your aunt,” he said carefully. “You let her see you… all of you?”

Hannibal’s face shuttered closed, his face smoothing out until Will could no longer read it. “She knows what I am, yes. My uncle passed shortly after I moved in with them, and… she was all I had. I was mute for a few years after the home invasion, and I withdrew even further when I was put in the orphanage. By the time I found my aunt and uncle, I was but a shell of the boy I was before. My aunt put the pieces of me back together. She taught me to fight. She showed me the finer things this world has to offer, and she fought to get my inheritance for me. She coaxed me back to life, Will.”

“How old were you when you first… took a life?” Will asked softly.

“Barely sixteen,” he recalled, his eyes far, far, away. “I knew the names of the men that broke into my home. I knew their faces. They got away, completely unscathed. I tracked them down, one by one, and killed them. I killed them exactly as they killed my sister. My aunt… she realized what I was doing on my weekends away by rummaging through my sketchbook. It was very hard for her to accept, and she ultimately decided she wanted nothing to do with me. I haven’t seen her since I left for medical school. For all I know, she may be dead.”

Will was speechless for a few minutes afterwards, gathering his thoughts. “You said you were like this before what happened to you,” he said slowly. “Were you violent?”

“Never,” Hannibal said immediately. “There were times when I was a child… I’d think about hurting someone for how they spoke to me or my sister. I was standing at the counter the first time I held a blade, and I was barely the height of it as I considered what it might be like to stick someone with it. There has always been darkness in me, but…”

“Your sister,” Will said softly. “You never wanted her to be frightened of you.”

“If I was darkness and shadow, then Mischa was pure sunlight,” he said wistfully. His mouth lifted in a smile at the very thought of her, and Will’s heart shattered in his chest. “If she were still with me, I would… I would likely be a very different person. It is sometimes shocking to be in your presence. She would have absolutely adored you, Will, but… she loved everything and everyone. She loved the animals on our property. She loved snails and lightning bugs. She once wept because the moon never got to see the sun. She thought that was… heartbreaking.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Will said softly, swiping absently at a surprising tear that coursed down his cheek.

“As do I,” he sighed.

“She was the last person that… that loved you. Before me,” Will realized.

Hannibal nodded, his eyes leaving the window to focus back on Will with startling intensity. “Do you still? Love me?”

“Entirely,” Will promised him, though his voice broke as he confessed it. “You are the only person that’s ever loved me, Hannibal. My parents didn’t. No one I’ve ever dated did. Only you. I would fight to my death to protect you. You are… you are everything.”

Hannibal swallowed thickly, moving around the counter swiftly to wrap Will in his arms. His embrace was tight enough to press the wind right out of Will’s lungs, but he endured it. “I do love you, you know,” he promised. “I know many think that people like me aren’t capable of it, but I assure you, Will. I am. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you. I would stop if you asked me to. I would carve my own heart out if you wanted it.”

“I don’t want any of that,” Will wheezed, and Hannibal relented with the tight grip of his arms. “I want you just as you are. Exactly as you are, just… no drugging.”

Hannibal laughed, warm and bright against Will’s ear. A sweet kiss was pressed to his throat, and Will leaned away to get one pressed to his mouth, instead. Soft lips caressed his own, a tease of a kiss more than an actual one. “I promised you I would never do so again.”

“Good,” Will sighed, chasing those lips down for a real kiss. Hannibal laced his fingers through his curls, tipping his face up for a claiming kiss that curled his toes in his socks. There was a bark from the threshold, and they broke apart to find Max wagging his tail indignantly, eyebrows shifting as he glared doggie daggers at the both of them.

Hannibal laughed, moving away from Will to love the miserable beast who hopped merrily at the attention. “Sorry, Max,” he said softly. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I? Poor thing.”

“He’s going to pee on something you love in spite,” Will warned him with a laugh.

“You can take a shower if that’s the case,” Hannibal laughed.

Chapter Text

It happened gradually.

So very gradually that Will didn’t really… notice. He spent weekends at Hannibal’s home with his dogs for a few months. Then he spent a week here or there. More and more of his clothes ended up at his house, then… some of his things. Hannibal bought him a desk to make his lures and set up a room for Will where he could work in peace if he wanted to.

Hannibal acquired dog furniture. Not dog beds. Actual furniture that looked like little beds and little couches for his mutts. Winter slid into spring, and his backyard became a tiny oasis for his dogs, complete with a drinking fountain for them.

Some of Will’s books worked their way over. Then his favorite coffee mug. Going home started to feel like going away, and he finally conceded that they were in fact living together.

Hannibal looked weirdly guilty when Will pointed it out, as though he’d known it for far longer than Will did. “Whatever you want to bring here, bring it here,” he’d said with an overly casual shrug.

“What if I wanted to bring my chipped up dining set?” Will teased.

Hannibal shrugged again, glancing off toward the unused side of his kitchen. “It would be a nice kitchenette set, once I get it refinished.”

With that, Will conceded defeat and moved in officially. Will had been certain that some of his tasteless décor that belonged to his dad would be hidden away, but… none of it was. Hannibal found a home for everything Will brought over, displaying even his fishing rods almost proudly.

He loved that Will lived with him. It was baffling, because… well, Will could be annoying.

Not that Hannibal had any feet to stand on when it came to weird ticks, but still. He liked testing the boundaries of Hannibal’s little OCD tendencies. He moved things slightly off from where they were originally. He tossed books on end tables and left coffee cups in the sink. When he put books away, he shoved them wherever they fit instead of trying to figure out where the fuck they went on the Dewey Decimal System.

Hannibal took all of it in stride, always pink and pleased that Will was in his home.

Their home.

Something that had been ingrained in him from a young age was that over time, intimacy waned in relationships. His dad used to always say that he should never get married because the sex is good, because as soon as a relationship settles out, so does the sex.

So far, six months in, it couldn’t be any further from the truth. He supposed that in ten years he’d maybe tire of the way Hannibal licked deep inside of him, igniting a fire in his belly that spread to his limbs. It seemed very fucking unlikely, though.

He spent entire evenings mapping Hannibal’s body with his tongue and his fingers, and he craved his partner at odd times during the day. If someone had told Will a year ago that he’d be eating Hannibal Lecter’s ass for two hours at a time, so strung out and aroused by it that he’d come untouched, he would have laughed until he died.

It was the truth, though. Their attraction to one another bordered on feral, and their intimacy felt like a super power. For a few hours, they were one. Almost as nature intended them to be.

Living with Hannibal could be shocking, and not for any of the reasons some might think it would be. In his head, Hannibal was always perfect and flawless. In reality, it took him time to get that way just like the rest of humanity.

The first time Will walked into the bathroom and Hannibal was clipping his toenails, it felt like he was witnessing a dirty secret. Hannibal was human, just like everyone else. He sneezed sometimes and he woke up with morning breath. He had to get haircuts and shave and do everything Will did when he got ready in the morning. His person suit was stitched up so tight that it never occurred to Will that he’d never heard him sneeze until he was living with him.

Will was grateful, because frankly, the way he sneezed was goddamn adorable.

It was an immensely difficult decision to sell his house in Wolf Trap. While he had no intention of moving back in, he still loved it more than anything in the world. Since he was living with Hannibal, he wanted to chip in with the mortgage and bills that came in, but he couldn’t exactly do that if he was paying a mortgage on a house that he didn’t even live in.

So he sold it, and it was snatched up within three days on the market. The sale was so swift that his real estate agent didn’t even charge him the full amount for fees, as she’d never gone out to the property to take pictures or anything else.

Some of the money from the house went into the bank. Some went to upgrading Hannibal’s kitchen to the other man’s liking. Will did all the work on the room himself, and Hannibal beamed with every upgrade.

Still, days turned into weeks, and he mourned the loss of his little house. There were public fishing spots along Wolf Trap Creek, but it didn’t feel the same. Every beautiful day, he’d rush out to go fishing and find himself wading in the river with several douchebags. Then as the days grew warmer, douchebags that were there to swim.

Without his outlet, his stress levels grew. Hannibal noticed, because they knew each other well enough to understand without any words. “Let’s take a drive, shall we?” he asked one random Saturday afternoon.

Will recognized the drive, because it was a drive he’d made for near on ten years, now. “I don’t want to go see my house, Hannibal,” he sighed. “I don’t… it’s not going to help me.”

Hannibal tilted his head as if in disagreement. “I understand the home was sold to someone who updated it,” he confessed.

“Even better,” Will bemoaned. “My little house. Gutted and made into some modern, stupid, abomination.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at that but made no comment.

It was painful to pull up the long driveway of his former home, but whoever flipped it didn’t make an abomination out of it. The driveway was beautifully re-graveled, the bushes in the front tamed down and surrounded by rich mulch. The lawn looked like it had been fertilized and seeded with new grass in some spots.

The front porch had clearly had an upgrade, as all the wood of the plank flooring had been torn up and replaced with a dark-stained teak. The railings and shutters were stained the same dark color, and all the rotten shingles on the side of the house were replaced. The house got a fresh coat of paint that was a beautiful moss green color, the front door stained dark and shiny like the decking.

“They did-” he tried and failed. His throat had closed up, and he took in a shuddering breath. “They did a beautiful job on it.”

“Did they?” Hannibal asked with a gentle smile. “It’s not an abomination?”

“They took everything rustic and wonderful about the house and made it… better,” Will conceded. “I think there’s even a new roof?” he said, leaning forward in the passenger seat to better see it.

“Shall we go inside and see if it’s been ruined?” Hannibal asked.

“We’re not breaking into the house,” Will laughed.

“Indeed we’re not,” Hannibal grinned, procuring a key from his pocket. “Shall we?”

“Hannibal,” he pleaded, jumping from the car to follow the man up the driveway. “Whatever they’re hoping to get from the flip is more than I can afford, so this is… this is pointless,” he said, jogging up the no-longer-creaky front porch steps. His heart slammed in his chest while Hannibal unlocked the front door, the rich scent of new wood and fresh stain greeting his nose while they stood there. There were two absolutely beautiful wicker chairs on the front porch with rich green cushions. It looked so very comfortable that Will regretted never having something similar there for himself when he lived here.

The interior was… gorgeous. His bookcases were refinished in a light oak stain, the walls painted a more muted shade of green. All the flooring had been lovingly sanded and refinished, the moldings replaced with new wood that matched the flooring perfectly.

River rock stone covered the fireplace up to the ceiling, and it was clear that the fireplace had been fixed and cleaned. There was a floor vent by the windows, which implied that the house had finally been fitted with an HVAC unit.

Whoever would live here wouldn’t need space heaters anymore.

The living room had been staged with beautiful furniture that fit the space exactly, warm and cozy looking.

He followed Hannibal throughout the house, marveling at the attention paid to each room. The kitchen and bathrooms had the biggest overhaul, but even they were done practically and with care for the age of the home. The cabinets weren’t pre-fab, they were clearly custom and made of warm-toned wood. There was a white enamel farmhouse sink by the window now, so whoever washed their dishes would be looking out over sprawling woods and the expanse of their backyard.

“I don’t know if seeing it this way helps me,” Will blurted, dragging his fingers across a spotless white quartz countertop.

“Why not?” Hannibal wondered.

“It makes me feel…” he struggled to find the word. “I don’t know. Sorry, I guess. To see its potential.”

“I bought the house, Will,” Hannibal said softly. Soft enough that Will almost missed it entirely.

“What?”

“I bought the house. From you. I was the one who… who flipped it,” he explained carefully, watching the outrage flicker across Will’s face.

“Why would you…?”

“Because,” he interjected. “I knew you would sell it no matter how much I told you it wasn’t necessary. I also know what this house meant to you, and how much you loved it. I wanted to surprise you with it. You and I can spend weeks here if we want to, now. We can come for the summer. We can move here exclusively if it would please you. Or it could be your retreat. The place you go when the city strangles the life out of you. It will be here, waiting and gleaming, any time you want to come to it.”

“Hannibal,” Will said thickly, swiping his fingers across his face to hide his embarrassing tears. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s still your home, Will,” Hannibal promised him. “It’s in your name, paid in full. I had it transferred to you this morning. You’ll need to sign some paperwork,” he said with a rose gold blush on his cheeks.

Will went to him, and Hannibal opened his arms without words. His tears were kissed off his cheeks, then his eyelids, and then he was wrapped in strong arms. “You took the money from this house-”

“-Your money,” Will laughed.

“Not that you knew it,” Hannibal agreed with a chuckle. “You took the money and immediately made our home better with it. I don’t regret doing this for you, Will. You’re a selfless man. You deserve to have this. I also… couldn’t stand the thought of losing it. You told me you loved me on that front porch for the first time. You kissed me for the first time in your front yard. This house was the foundation of our beginning, I think. Neither of us should lose it.”

“You love my little house, don’t you?” Will asked with a laugh, grateful tears gleaming in his eyes.

“I do,” he agreed. “I love the house, I love our dogs, and I love you. Endlessly. Are you… are you happy, beloved?”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, squeezing his stubborn man tighter. “I am.”

They ended up moving to the house for the summer with their dogs. Will only had two classes to teach over the summer months, so his days were filled with the quiet pleasure of his stream, his dogs, and Hannibal. It was blissful.

His fishing gear came back to the house along with his lure desk from storage. One of the upstairs bedrooms was converted into a home office for Hannibal, as he sometimes had work that followed him home.

Jack, despite the fact that Will hadn’t consulted in six months, still asked almost daily for Will to return to the field. He refused each time, but it was getting harder and harder to keep saying no. He knew Hannibal was still killing, but he never asked how many people, or when.

There was always a lurking curiosity in him when he noticed the light changes in Hannibal’s demeanor following a kill. Did the FBI get called out to his scenes? Did they recognize them as Ripper killings?

He imagined they didn’t, because he’d have heard that the Ripper was killing again at least in passing. Jack would have used that as bait for Will to return to the field if he thought the Ripper was back.

Hannibal took him to a few operas and galas over the summer, introducing Will to his friends as his partner. There was always such pride in him when he was showing Will off. It was… baffling, but it made Hannibal so happy that he never questioned it.

Max was officially Hannibal’s dog, now. The stubborn mutt didn’t even look at Will anymore, his wide, eager, eyes always and forever fixed on Hannibal and what he was doing. Hannibal returned that affection tenfold. Max was the first thing he thought of when he woke up in the morning, and he was the first in the house to get greeted when he came home at the end of the day. If Hannibal was home, Max was by his side. The other dogs loved him too, but not quite the way Max did.

They hosted an enormous outdoor barbeque in the backyard over Labor Day weekend, and literally everyone they knew was invited. Hannibal rented a large white party tent that took up a huge space in the backyard, complete with tables and chairs. It outed them as a couple to the few people who hadn’t heard about it from anyone else, yet.

“So,” Bev had said to him by the fireplace outside at the end of the night. “You quit consulting pretty much the same week that you and… Dr. Lecter got together?”

“Bev,” Jimmy scolded, and Will laughed.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Will agreed after a swig of his beer.

“He’s so stuffy?” she said, scrunching her nose at Will with a teasing smile. “Unless… unless he’s not when it’s just the two of you?”

“He’s...” Will struggled to come up with a word that described the uniqueness of Hannibal Lecter. “Incredible,” he decided.

“Probably a sight for sore eyes under those suits,” Jimmy agreed while licking his lips, eyes trained on Hannibal while he talked with a few guests under the tent. He was dressed down in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top buttons undone by his collar. Soft grey slacks followed every curve of him, and Will grinned. Max was by his side, following him around despite the throng of people that cooed over him.

“He is gorgeous,” he sighed. He knew he sounded like a love-sick puppy, but he was really past the point where he felt the need to hide it.

“Yeah,” Jimmy agreed again, sipping his glass of white wine while staring at the love of his life.

“Jesus,” Bev laughed. “I want to ask how you got together, but… I feel like I don’t need to. The way you look at him, Will,” she and Jimmy sighed. “He’s clearly good in bed.”

Will choked on his beer, leaning forward in his Adirondack chair to avoid dripping all over his shorts. “That good, huh?” Jimmy commiserated.

He laughed, swiping beer from his nose with the back of his hand. His eyes went to Hannibal as they always did, and his partner seemed to feel his eyes on him. Alana was chatting animatedly by his side, but Hannibal’s eyes absolutely smoldered at Will, his attention clearly distracted from whatever she was saying to him. “Would you believe me if I told you it had nothing to do with that?” Will asked, eyes firmly planted on the gentle sway of Hannibal’s hips as he poured himself another glass of wine.

“Nope,” Bev said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Not after that eye-fuck you just gave one another from thirty feet away. When are you marrying him, Will? You’re not gonna do better than that.”

The thought of that level of commitment used to cause him anxiety that would make his hands shake, but it really didn’t anymore. A ring on Hannibal’s finger would be a pleasant reminder to everyone around him that he was spoken for, and Will was possessive enough of him to long for something like that, now. Alana leaned into Hannibal’s space, her smile wide at whatever he said that made her laugh. His left hand was holding a glass of wine, ring finger completely, lewdly, naked. “Soon,” Will said eventually, though his eyes were still focused on Hannibal’s grotesquely naked ring finger. “Very, very, soon.”

“You’re not jealous of Dr. Bloom, are you?” Jimmy asked doubtfully. “Do you see how that man looks at you?”

“Not jealous,” Will said, finally allowing his eyes to drift away from Hannibal to look at the people around him. “Really,” he said seriously at the doubt on their faces. “I’m not.”

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, and he found himself grinning while turning his head for the kiss he knew was waiting for him. “You look so beautiful by the fire,” Hannibal said lowly, but not lowly enough that his two companions couldn’t hear it. He heard their combined heart-stricken sighs, but he would never pull away.

“Do I?” Will asked with a laugh, closing his eyes as Hannibal pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You know you are,” he said softly, fingertips trailing along his sternum. “One moment I’m speaking with Alana, then next my legs have carried me here.” His legs had carried him here, along with Max’s legs that went wherever Hannibal went. He pet his dog. Well, Hannibal’s dog, really.

“Kind of rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation,” Will laughed.

“Very rude in fact,” Hannibal agreed, smearing another kiss to his cheek. “What were all of you discussing?” Everyone blushed, and the reaction made Hannibal all the more curious. “Well now I must know,” he laughed.

Will gripped his waist, hauling him into the seat with him. It was hugely inappropriate given the company, but he wanted Hannibal in his lap, and Will always got what he wanted. “I was saying that I want to marry you,” Will said so softly that no one else would hear it.

He felt Hannibal stiffen in his arms, his eyes wide and his mouth parted. “Were you.”

“Yeah,” he said, just as softly. “Would you? Marry me?”

“Are you asking, or merely inquiring for a later date?” Hannibal grinned.

“Asking,” Will elaborated, feeling mightily embarrassed for not having a ring with him or anything more romantic than himself.

“Then yes,” Hannibal’s grin spread wider, crinkling his eyes, and baring his teeth.

“Wait,” Bev blurted out, coming to her feet. “Did we just…?”

“Did Will just propose in front of us?” Jimmy asked in disbelief. Max barked by their side, frustrated that he wasn’t getting attention like he wanted to.

“Will, someone needs to talk to you about appropriate times and places for things,” Bev went on.

“My eyeballs,” Jimmy wailed. “How am I this lucky to be here for this?”

“Not worthy,” Bev agreed, clapping her hands while bouncing in place.

Hannibal laughed, tugging Will’s face up to cover his mouth with his own. Will held him closer, ignoring the whooping and yelling with a hot blush staining his cheeks.

“What’s going on?” Alana asked from behind him, but he wouldn’t pull away from this kiss if he were dying.

“Will just asked Hannibal to marry him!” Bev said, still bouncing in place.

“And Dr. Lecter said yes!” Jimmy concluded, still clapping his hands.

Their lips parted, and Hannibal stood up from the chair to haul Will up with him. He never turned to see Alana’s face, because it didn’t matter. No one else mattered.

He heard champagne bottles popping while the news spread out like wildfire around them, but his eyes never drifted from Hannibal’s own. They were wet with tears that never came free, intensely focused on Will alone, too.

They spend the night celebrating with their dogs and their friends, then the rest of the night celebrating with one another. Will didn’t have a ring for him, but he made up for it by licking Hannibal open until his fiancé came untouched across their mattress.

Being Hannibal’s husband didn’t feel any differently than being Hannibal’s partner. They were married by the end of November, all their closest friends in attendance as neither of them had any family that would come.

Their rings were… crazy. Will picked them out without Hannibal, and he knew they were the very epitome of possessive and insane.

He found them online, perusing different sites when he stumbled across them. They looked like ordinary black wedding bands with rose gold trim, but they were anything but ordinary. They linked together through an app on their phones, gifting the wearer with the ability to feel their spouse’s heartbeat from anywhere in the world. When he was at work, he could tap the ring and it would vibrate against his finger in real time. Hannibal’s heartbeat. Buzzing against his finger.

They charged them at night by their bed, and could feel one another all day long, even when they weren’t together.

It became a method for stress relief during his day. He’d find a quiet moment and tap his wedding band, relishing in the steady thrum of Hannibal’s heartbeat against his skin. They were absolutely insane, and they had wedding rings that proved it.

Hannibal’s ring battery never lasted the whole day. By the time he got home, the thing was spent, which meant that he tapped his ring a hell of a lot more than Will did, and Will checked his like clockwork.

While they were a relief in some ways, they latched onto Will’s subconscious in terrifying ones. He had vivid nightmares where he would be at work and reach down to tap at his ring, only to feel absolutely nothing in response.

Those nights, he’d wake up and press Hannibal into the mattress with his hips, fucking him until his heartbeat thrummed beneath his skin enough that Will could feel it with his lips and tongue.

They were possessive of one another. It was not a new revelation.

Jack still asked him to consult fairly regularly, and Will stayed firm in his decision not to get involved until one case in early February. Jack came to him after his class let out, and Will contained the sigh upon seeing him stroll into his lecture hall. He tapped his golden promise, letting Hannibal’s heartbeat soothe him as Jack reached the podium.

“Will,” he greeted, looking mildly sheepish.

“What can I do for you, Jack?” he asked, packing up his folders and laptop to keep his hands busy.

“There’s a case we’re working on,” he admitted, shifting his feet awkwardly. “I am not asking you to consult on it. I just want to throw that out there, but…”

“But?” Will pressed, pausing his hands to glance up at him over the rim of his glasses.

“There was a body of a woman found in… in a horse,” he blurted. Will raised his eyebrows in surprise, waiting for Jack to continue. “She was strangled somewhere else, then placed in the horse post-mortem. We found sixteen other women in a field that match her description and fit the profile. Our main suspect… he’s… different, Will. He knew the woman we found in the horse, and he worked at the farm where her body was found. He’s the main person of interest, but… I don’t think it’s him.”

“What are you asking me to do, exactly?” Will wondered.

“Peter is… different. He has a hard time talking to the psychiatrists we’ve had him speak to. He loves animals. I feel like… like you would have better luck speaking to him? Would you do that for me?”

Will hesitated, glancing away to gather himself. “All you want is for me to speak to Peter? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Jack agreed carefully. “If he won’t talk to you, then I won’t ask you for anything else.”

“I’d need to see the casefile,” Will sighed, reaching under his glasses to rub at his eyes. “I need a clear picture.”

“You’ll have it by lunchtime,” Jack promised. “Thank you. I know… I know you don’t want to look anymore. If you can get him to talk to you, you’d be helping an innocent man that looks unforgivably guilty.”

“No need to lay it on thick,” Will replied. “I’ll look, Jack.”

“It’s appreciated,” Jack said, waving his hand as he backed out from the lecture hall. “I will get that file to you within the hour. Thank you, Will,” he repeated, striding out of the room with purpose. There was no doubt Will was going to have that file in ten minutes or less, before Will changed his mind.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached in to grab it while nervous sweat broke out on his forehead. This was how it started. He’d say yes to one case, then another and another. He answered the call without even looking, swiping the sweat at his temple with his fingers. “Yeah?” he said, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Beloved,” Hannibal greeted him, voice tinged in concern. “Your heartrate is elevated. Are you well?”

Will tapped his ring, feeling the slightly elevated heartrate of his husband in response. “I’m fine,” he promised weakly. “Jack asked me to… sort of consult on a case. He wants me to talk to a man that’s under suspicion for a string of serial murders, and… Jack thinks he’s innocent. All the evidence apparently points to him, though.”

“I understand your desire to help this man,” Hannibal said carefully, “but if you do not want to consult, it is within your right to refuse.”

“I am going to do it,” Will decided, taking in a steadying breath. “Just this once, Hannibal. It won’t get out of hand.”

It got out of hand. How he ended up here, like this, was completely beyond him. The anger and indignation boiling in his veins made him point his gun at Peter’s social worker with more conviction. “Officer,” Clark Ingram begged, doing his best impression of being a vulnerable human being. “I’m the victim here.”

“I’m not an officer,” Will replied bitterly while pointing the gun firmly. “I’m Peter’s friend.”

“Peter’s confused!” Ingram said, pissing Will off all the more.

“Well I’m not,” he replied, briefly gesturing towards the hammer with the pistol. “Pick up the hammer.”

“Will,” Hannibal said softly from his side, a quiet note of pleading in his voice.

“Pick it up!” Will pressed, grinding his teeth to dust in his fury.

His husband stepped against his side, touching his arm gently. “If you want him,” Hannibal whispered, lips brushing against his ear with every word. “Wait. Not this way, Will. Please. I promise you that if you want him, we will have him. Not today, however, and not here. Trust me.”

Will felt the fight go out of him at that, and he reached up with his free hand to stroke the line of Hannibal’s jaw. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he repeated.

Will lowered his gun, and Ingram sobbed in relief while crumpling to the floor of the barn. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. Peter had trusted this man with his well-being, and he would go free while Peter would be very likely placed in a psychiatric facility. He was the scum of the earth. The world would be a better place without Clark Ingram.

His husband promised him, though, and Hannibal always kept his promises.

The rest of their night was long and cold while they waited for Jack, as well as the rest of the crime scene techs to get there and take their statements. “What made you come back at all?” Jack asked, glancing around with a scowl on his face at all the horse blood all over the floor.

“I knew Peter was in danger,” Will replied, pointing a finger out towards the cruiser where Ingram was being tended to. “That man is a monster, Jack. Peter didn’t do this.”

“He put his social worker in a horse,” Jack sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily with his fingers. “From the look of it, Peter instigated this, Will.”

“Bullshit,” he spat, shaking his head.

“Will,” Hannibal said, touching his elbow gently. “Trust in the system, yes?”

It was a reminder that Ingram would get what’s his, but not through the judicial system. “Listen to your husband,” Jack agreed, moving away from Will to speak with Bev and Jimmy.

The ride home was quiet with Hannibal. Will was distracted, aching with the loss of not taking Ingram’s life when he had the chance to. He’d kill again, there was no doubt. Some poor woman would be strangled to death and buried where no one would ever find her, and knowing it made him feel nauseous.

They’d spent several hours outside in temperatures that were below freezing, and his hands felt icy and numb as he was directed inside their warm house by a firm hand. Their dogs greeted them at the door, but Will barely noticed them. He wondered when Ingram was going to go kill someone else. If he’d do it tonight because he was angry that he never got the chance to kill Peter like he wanted to.

He stood in the foyer while Hannibal went outside in the backyard with their dogs, letting them out briefly so they could relieve themselves before bed. He stared down at his hands in shock, allowing himself to absorb what he’d almost done tonight in a quiet sense of awe.

Ingram didn’t deserve a quick end. What he did to all those women, then Peter as well, deserved some amount of suffering.

When Hannibal returned, he peeled off his own coat, then Will’s as well, directing him upstairs with a palm pressed to the small of his back. He was steered into the master bathroom, then stripped of his clothes while Hannibal got the shower going.

His skin was so cold that stepping into the hot shower felt like knives against his skin, and it brought him back to himself enough to realize that Hannibal was washing him with gentle hands. “Are you with me again, beloved?”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, leaning into his husband’s hands where they worked dirt and grime from his fingers. “We’ll have to act quickly for Ingram. He’s going to disappear, Hannibal. If we want to-”

“Shh,” Hannibal cut him off, tipping his head back into the warm spray to wet his hair. “That’s enough of that, now. I promised you that we’ll have him, Will. Trust me when I tell you that I will get him. However, we’ll speak of it tomorrow. Be with me, now. I’m right here.”

The tension in his body went out at the feel of his husband wrapping his arms around his waist, hugging him close against his broad chest. Will shuddered, gripping the strong muscles in his back to keep him pressed tight against him, not that Hannibal was going anywhere.

They washed each other carefully, then Hannibal dried him off with a fluffy towel before taking care of himself. Will wandered into the bedroom to get them pajamas, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his waist. “Will,” he sighed, pressing damp kisses to his neck.

For the first time since their relationship had turned physical, Will wasn’t in the mood for it. It made him feel guilty for some reason, even as his body responded to his husband’s reverent hands and mouth against his skin. He wanted to tear Ingram to shreds with his bare hands, not make love to the man he loved most in this world.

If he fucked Hannibal in the mood he was in right now, he’d hurt him. He really did not want the added guilt that hurting his husband would cause for him.

“Watching you with him,” Hannibal said like a moan, nipping at Will’s throat with his teeth. “I will never be able to predict you, will I?”

“You’re pleased with me,” Will realized, tilting his head while his husband gripped the towel around his waist to throw it to the floor.

“I told myself I would never do anything to manipulate you into killing again,” he sighed, licking up Will’s neck while his hand slid down his abdomen. “There was no need to regardless, was there?”

He could feel the pride melting off his husband and sinking into his bones. Hannibal wanted to make love to him. He wanted it with a fierceness that Will could taste, and any residual hesitancy over the idea of it had dissipated. “I’ve already told you that… sometimes, it’s tempting,” Will said slowly, struggling to maintain his train of thought when his husband gripped his cock in his fist and started stroking him with a firm hand. He felt Hannibal’s towel disappear, then his thick cock was pressed against his ass. “Jesus, I can’t talk about killing someone when you’re playing with my dick.”

The warm hand immediately let him go, and Will whimpered as Hannibal rocked against him. “Continue,” he pressed, licking a line up the back of Will’s neck.

“Can’t,” he moaned. “Can’t talk about murder when you’re naked and licking me.”

He generally found it difficult to talk at all when Hannibal started on him, whether it was about killing or anything else. “We’ll speak more about it tomorrow, then,” his husband suggested reasonably.

Hannibal planted his hands on Will’s hips, navigating him to the bed while nipping along his shoulder blade. Rough hands shoved him face-first to the bed, and just as Will got to his knee to roll himself over, Hannibal stilled him.

He could feel it. Hannibal was straddling the line, still somewhat in control of what he was doing and somewhat not. It was difficult to explain the warning he felt along his skin when Hannibal was losing grip of himself, when the monster inside decided to come out. The hairs along his arms and neck stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. Even without looking, he knew Hannibal was struggling to hold back, to leash the thing inside of him because he hated showing his true self even to his own husband.

Sharp teeth nipped at his ass, and he flinched while being spread open by rough hands. The noise Hannibal made as he licked into Will’s body felt more like a vibration than an actual sound, rough and utterly desperate.

Count Doctor Hannibal Lecter the eight did not want his husband to kill an unarmed man because it would lead to his husband’s arrest. The Chesapeake Ripper, however, wanted to see his mate slaughter another human being, consequences be damned.

He felt teeth skim across his rim, as though Hannibal wanted to bite down on him in the worst way. He shuddered through the arousal that coursed through him, moaning low when Hannibal decided to fuck him deep with his tongue instead.

“Hannibal,” Will sobbed, gripping the bedsheets in sweaty, clenching, fists. He rocked back against Hannibal’s face, grinding against his face as hard as he could.

Slick, cool, fingers slid inside of him, spreading him open while Hannibal gripped his knee to roll him over. He was on the edge of the bed, so there was nowhere to put his legs now that he was on his back.

Long fingers slid deeper inside of him while a hot mouth engulfed him, and Will struggled to breathe through it. After a year of intimacy together, Hannibal knew exactly how to drive Will to orgasm within a minute or less. Some nights he did so just to prove that he could before forcing another orgasm from him at a more leisurely pace.

Some nights were like this. He knew he’d be a sweating, writhing, mess by the time Hannibal was satisfied with him tonight. At his heart, Hannibal was a sadist. He’d never torture Will with pain. Never.

But pleasure? That was well within his arsenal, and he wielded his knowledge of Will’s body like a weapon.

His cock hit the back of Hannibal’s throat just as those long fingers teased against his prostate, the dual pleasure of it intensified as his husband rubbed a thumb against his perinium, too. Just as he was about to lose himself, his husband pulled away from his cock, working another finger inside of him to stretch him while pressing him back against the bed.

He slid against the cool sheets, going up on his elbow to grab Hannibal by the nape of his neck. Sometimes, when Hannibal got like this, he could be almost emotionally distant while he took Will apart with pleasure. It was relatively easy to bring him back, though.

Hannibal collapsed against Will’s body with a growl, threading his free hand that wasn’t buried inside of him into the curls at the nape of his neck. Will kissed him gently, licking against the snarl that lifted his upper lip in warning.

Victims didn’t get to decide what they wanted to do, but Will was not a victim. All it ever took was some gentility to remind his monster of that.

Hannibal blinked down at him, his shoulders tensing as Will kissed him sweetly, moaning into the cavern of his mouth while his fingers worked themselves deeper. “Will,” he said softly, reverently. The fingers withdrew from him, and he was crushed in a hug that ground his bones together.

He wheezed through it, grasping Hannibal’s shoulders while rolling them until Will was straddling his waist. A thick, hard, cock, pressed against his perinium, and he knew he could sink down over it with just a wiggle of his hips.

His husband would never allow that, though. He’d never want Will tearing himself open because there wasn’t enough lube involved in the equation. He tested that theory by tilting his hips, catching the thick head of his cock with his loosened rim.

Strong hands gripped his hips, stilling him from moving any further. “Wait,” he said softly, pressing up with his knees until Will hovered over him. Will laughed while watching his absolutely beautiful husband slick his own cock with lube until it was almost dripping with it.

He knew this man, inside and out.

Will sank down over him the first chance he got, grinding down into his lap with a heart wrenching moan. Large hands caressed his skin, sliding from his throat down his chest, tracing every muscle and vein in their wake.

Hannibal’s hair was flopped over his forehead, so Will reached up to stroke it back, rocking against him slowly. It took absolutely no work on his part for anything to bring him pleasure. With his husband inside of him, pleasure was all there was.

His husband’s face was slack with pleasure, and Will could pick it up errantly with his gift. It was easy to slide into his point of view, feeling Hannibal’s pleasure like it was his own. Dark eyes watched him, sliding over his face and body as though memorizing him. Sharp cheekbones bloomed rose gold, a fine sheen of sweat on Hannibal’s face making him look otherworldly.

He was beautiful, and he belonged to Will.

Will leaned forward while rocking over him, bringing their mouths together in a kiss. He tasted like Will’s body and toothpaste, licking deep into his mouth as though he were tasting Will, too.

Hannibal grasped his hips, pressing him down over his lap more firmly while Will trailed an open-mouthed kiss across a salted cheekbone. Strong hands slid up from his hips, gliding through sweat at the small of his back with gentle fingers. “Beloved,” he sighed, eyes closed as though it were all too much for him.

“Love you,” Will said softly, smearing a kiss against the side of his face.

Hannibal’s arms banded around his waist while he sat up, holding onto Will as though he’d disappear. Will adjusted on his knees, pressing his body so close that his cock was squeezed between their stomachs. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, grinding on him slowly while biting along the strong curve of his shoulder.

His husband inhaled at the base of his throat, sliding his hands between his shoulder blades while pressing gentle kisses to his collarbones. The intimacy of this was crushing Will alive, and he struggled to breathe through it.

Hannibal loved him. God, did he love him. If his life collapsed around him into ruin and he could trust nothing else, he could at least trust in that.

His orgasm crashed over him without warning, his limbs locking tight with each wave of his release. Hannibal held him through it, grasping him with desperate hands while fucking up into him with deep snaps of his hips.

Sharp teeth bit down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder while Hannibal pounded into him recklessly. He gasped at the sensation, pain bordering on intense pleasure that forced his eyes shut while he struggled through it.

Hannibal released his skin from between his teeth, moaning low as he came deep inside of Will’s body. He felt the wet heat of his release leaking from him with each snap of his husband’s hips, turning his face to smear a kiss over his mouth.

Will loved the feel of his pounding heart against his chest, the scent of his sweat-slick skin against his own. He adored their intimacy, but he loved the quiet moments afterward even more. Hannibal always held him afterwards like he was something precious, his eyes wide and disbelieving as they trailed over him from head to toe.

As was Will’s way, he ruined the moment by opening his mouth. “Did you ever think about eating me?”

Hannibal’s mouth dropped open, then closed. He looked stunned by the question, as he should. “Not…” he sighed. “Not in that way,” he said finally.

“I was rude sometimes,” Will pointed out, pressing sweet kisses against his cheekbone. “Well, all the time, really.”

Hannibal chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Will’s jawline like an affectionate animal. “I found your sass endearing,” he admitted. “I’ve never once considered taking anything from you, Will. I’ve told you before, the world is a better place with you in it. My life is better with you in it.”

Will smiled, tipping his face forward to press it against his shoulder. Strong arms held him closer, so Will reciprocated by wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him, too.

There were parts of Will that not even he himself fully understood.

Nothing made that clearer than when they finally went for Clark Ingram.

He thought for sure he’d feel hesitant once Hannibal presented him with his own clear plastic murder suit. He did not. Instead, there was a startlingly possessive emotion that rolled through him with the realization that they’d be dressed the same.

Once they got to Ingram’s home, he was certain he’d feel nervous, then. He did not. Hannibal pressed a needle into his throat, knocking him out within moments of their arrival. They tied him up together, dumping his unconscious body unceremoniously into the trunk of the Bentley.

His heartrate never increased while he and his husband packed Ingram’s suitcases, already out and waiting as though Ingram intended to disappear in the coming days. They’d gotten to him just in time, and the only thing he felt in that moment was relief.

They packed everything that looked sentimental as well as most of his clothes. They packed his bathroom supplies and his powered down laptop. Hannibal removed the battery from his cell phone, tossing the device into the opened suitcase on the bed.

When he didn’t show up for work, Jack would show up here to see why. It would look like Ingram ran, but they’d never find him.

When they got back to the house, Hannibal helped him carry Ingram’s limp body into the basement, cutting away his clothes before tying him down on a stainless-steel table. Will was certain that by this point, he’d be wary. He was not. He felt a quiet sense of anticipation while waiting for the wretched man to wake up.

The most surprising thing was Ingram’s disposition when he finally came to. He wasn’t upset or distraught. He surprised both of them by laughing. “Knew there was something off about the two of you,” he said groggily. “You’re just like me, aren’t you?”

Will was the first to cut into him. They were nothing alike.

Their first official dinner party as a married couple in their Baltimore home was almost entirely with Clark Ingram’s remains. Hannibal made heart tartare. Lung province style. Prosciutto roses on perfect cubes of watermelon. Tenderloin with cognac butter. Oysters with bacon mignonette. Shank with pomegranate and walnuts. Sausage and pepper skewers with fresh basil dipping sauce.

It was utterly astounding how much could be made with a single person. More than enough to feed all twenty people, with some still in the freezer downstairs.

Hannibal hired his usual crew to cater the dinner as he usually did, freeing himself from the kitchen to spend time with their guests. He glanced down at the sleeves of his brand new navy suit, fussing with the gold cufflinks there. Gold squares with LELO printed on them.

He wasn’t wearing the device, though. He sipped his champagne, glancing up to look for his husband among the crowd. He was in the corner, speaking with Mrs. Komeda. The cut of his suit followed the strong curve of his back, flaring out perfectly with the narrow dip of his waist. There was a beautiful rose gold blush on his cheeks, and Will reached up absently to tap his wedding ring.

Hannibal’s heartrate was elevated. Arousal made his heart work harder than normal.

“You do that often?” Alana asked, walking towards him with a champagne flute of her own. “Check his heartbeat while he’s in the room?” she teased.

Will blushed at being caught, averting his eyes to the floor. “Habit,” he replied dismissively. “Margot seems nice.”

“She’s amazing,” Alana agreed, looking up to find her new girlfriend in the room. It was clear that they were obsessed with each other, as Margot looked up at almost the exact same time to smile at Alana, too.

“I’m happy for you,” Will told her truthfully. “Really.”

“I’ve never told you, but… I’m happy for you, too,” she admitted, looking to Hannibal who was smiling a real smile. Not a plastic one. “The two of you are… intense together. It doesn’t make it any less beautiful.”

She watched as Hannibal reached up mid-conversation to tap his own ring, startling a laugh out of her. Whatever Will’s heart was doing, probably galloping in his chest at the sight of his beautiful man, made him look over to Will with a gentle smile. One reserved for Will alone.

“Intense,” she repeated, sipping her champagne.

Will had been certain that if they ever held a dinner party here, that their dogs would be tucked away in an unused room somewhere. They were not. Everywhere he looked, dogs milled around with hoity-toity guests, accepting pets and bribes of food from eager fingers. Max was where he always was, sitting beside Hannibal while he talked, looking bored with the situation.

There was something ridiculously satisfying about being included in Hannibal’s life. Sitting at the table while endless courses were brought out, each one more incredible than the one before it. The moans of pleasure from their guests as they ate a revolting man without knowing it, watching their knives slide through the tender cuts of meat on their plates.

It was difficult to pay attention, though. Hannibal sat to his left, rocking himself gently in the chair with subtle movements that no one noticed aside from Will, who was aching in his expensive slacks.

Hannibal subtly scented the air, his blush deepening while his eyes settled on Will alone.

Will cleared his throat, rubbing his temple gently for show. “Hannibal,” he said loudly enough that others turned to listen discreetly. “Do we have aspirin? Advil? I have a bit of a headache.”

“Of course, dearest,” Hannibal said politely while coming to his feet. “Excuse us for just a moment.”

“Steer clear of red wine,” Mrs. Komeda reminded him. “It clearly does not agree with you, darling.”

“I should know better by now, shouldn’t I?” he laughed.

He followed Hannibal to their master bathroom, rubbing his forehead for emphasis. “Are you alright?” Alana asked in concern. “You look flushed, Will.”

“Headache,” he replied. “Be back in a minute.”

The moment they were in the bathroom, Will attacked.

Their lips crashed together while quick fingers undid beltloops and shirt buttons, blazers tossed aside haphazardly. Hannibal moaned once their shirts were opened up but not discarded. They were far too worked up to get to that.

Their pants were shucked down their legs as far as they could go before Will gripped his shoulder and pressed him against the counter, spreading his ass open with eager hands. “Fuck,” he panted, tugging the gold metal handle wedged deep between his husband’s cheeks. “Hannibal, Jesus fuck!”

“Will,” Hannibal moaned, arching his back while Will manipulated the device for a minute, wiggling it torturously against his prostate. The metal was hot in his palm, and he couldn’t fucking wait another minute.

Will slid the device out, slicking his cock with the lube they’d left on the counter for this purpose. With a quick movement, he buried himself inside his husband to the hilt.

Both sobbed at the intrusion, the wet heat clenching around Will’s cock almost too much to fucking survive. No time was wasted. He fucked into his husband hard and fast, their skin clapping with the vigor of Will’s pace.

Hannibal grasped the counter, turning his torso while Will leaned over his back, fucking into him with deep, hard, rolls of his hips. Their mouths clashed clumsily, his fingers digging possessive bruises on his husband’s back and waist.

“Fuck, Will,” Hannibal sobbed, dipping his spine as Will drilled into him. His entire body was lit up with pleasure, his nerve endings singing with each thrust of his cock into his husband’s perfect body.

Hannibal came much more quickly than he usually did, but he’d been warmed up for hours by this point. His orgasm tore through him, his muscles clamping down on Will like a vice. Will fucked him through it, panting against the strong curve of muscle in Hannibal’s shoulder.

His own orgasm tore through him, and he bellowed out while fucking Hannibal so deeply it felt like his entire body was inside of him. They gasped and shivered together, Will buried deep while they both calmed down.

A fluffy towel was tossed over Hannibal’s shoulder, and Will laughed while taking it to withdraw from his husband’s body. “You want it back in?” Will asked while cleaning him up gently.

“No,” Hannibal sighed, resting his face against the cool marble countertop. “It would kill me, I think.”

They helped one another straighten each other’s clothes, soft kisses pressed against skin before it was covered up in expensive cloth. They’d been gone maybe ten minutes, but Will was slightly mortified that everyone would know what they’d been doing.

“We’re married,” Hannibal pointed out as though reading his mind. He replaced Will’s cufflinks with plain gold circles, straightening the cuffs with deft fingers. “I can fuck my husband if I want to. There’s no shame.”

“There certainly isn’t,” Will laughed, hauling him close once they were presentable. “I love you so goddamned much. You know that, don’t you?”

Hannibal kissed him soundly, licking into his mouth possessively before withdrawing. “As I love you, beloved. Shall we?”

Will nodded, lacing their fingers together before following Hannibal anywhere he wanted to take him.