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Hannibal Lecter watched in his periphery as Jack Crawford blinked awake from his sedation, taking in his surroundings groggily. He was likely brought around by the sounds of clinking cookware and the smell of melted butter. Seated opposite Will, who was strapped to a chair at the opposite end of the long dining table, Jack zeroed in on Hannibal organizing a mise en place. 

Hannibal reluctantly retrieved the bone saw, attempting to avoid looking at Will. Just as he was about to start taunting their newly awakened guest, Jack’s voice, powerful even while drugged, broke the silence of the room. 

“You shoulda killed him, Will. I warned you. I told you to cut that part of you out, and look where you are now. Why didn’t you kill him, Will?!” Jack shouting at a clearly dazed, drugged Will Graham made Hannibal’s hackles rise, though he certainly recognized the irony of such a reaction. Jack’s words were still sluggish, however the cocktail Hannibal had given Jack was not designed to inhibit his speech as Will’s was. There had been no need to limit Jack in that way, and he now found himself glad he had not done so.  

Hannibal grew contemplative, wondering how much of himself Will had ended up revealing to the FBI agent. 

“What part of himself did you encourage our dear Will to excise, I wonder?” Hannibal was speaking to Jack but his eyes were now locked onto Will, who was glaring at his former boss. 

“I assume this conversation took place before he and I were reunited?” Hannibal sounded calm and detached, but Will likely knew better. Jack’s words snagged at Hannibal’s keen perception, making him feel the prickles of impending danger. 

“The part that wanted you, of course,” Jack sneered. “He still wanted to slip away with you, even after everything you’ve done to him.” The drugs in Jack’s system seemed to be lowering his inhibitions, loosening his tongue. “I probably shoulda known you’d find your own way to sabotage this sad excuse of a friendship again.” How little Jack understood of the truth of what lay between Hannibal and Will. 

“Jack, don’t. Please stop talking.” Will was slowly shaking his head, grimacing, becoming visibly agitated by Jack’s words. Hannibal’s interest in the subject matter increased significantly. 

Hannibal was ravenous for more details, the word “again” scratching something particularly uncomfortable in Hannibal’s subconscious. “Tell me, Jack. What is this past sabotage you’re referring to? Consider my interest piqued.” He tried to remain calm, but a sickening sensation was beginning to twist his stomach. 

“As if you don’t know,” Jack scoffed, “Last time he came to you wanting to run away with you, you disemboweled him, abandoned him on your kitchen floor to bleed out with the rest of us. Don’t know why he thought this time would be any different.” Jacks’s contempt for Hannibal was radiating from his very pores. “Now you’ve shown him what you really think of him, though, haven’t you? You’re planning to eat him. Feed him to me. He’s just another pig to you!”

“ENOUGH, Jack!” 

Will was wrath personified, glaring at his former boss with a feral snarl and venom in his eyes. Hannibal was struck with the certainty that, had Will not currently been sedated, immobilized and restrained, he would have launched himself across the expanse of the table and torn Jack’s throat out with his teeth. Will Graham was extraordinary. 

Hannibal had gone completely still, disbelief warring with a nauseating sense of grief and loss. He desperately needed Jack to be lying. Will could not have wanted to leave with him 256 days ago. It was simply impossible. 

The ramifications to Hannibal’s already damaged psyche were too horrifying to consider. If everything Hannibal had hoped and planned for, the antidote to all of his longing, had been right there in the palm of his hand…no, it was impossible. It had to be, otherwise Abigail…no! 

This was certainly just Jack’s (admittedly successful) attempt to gain the upper hand. Jack wasn’t entirely unskilled in the art of manipulation, as he’d now proven. Nevertheless, Hannibal needed to know for certain, even as he dreaded the possibility of this being true. 

Hannibal knelt down beside Will, forgoing the chair beside him, and reached out to brush his fingers gently over Will’s forehead, right where he’d planned to open his scalp with the saw. 

Will’s venomous expression immediately shifted to something soft and infinitely sad. Hannibal refused to name the emotions he saw in Will’s ephemeral eyes. He cradled Will’s head in his hands, turning his beautiful face so their eyes could meet. “Will, did you come to me that night because you wanted to leave with me?” 

Deny it, Will. Please. Will’s eyes held the proof of Hannibal’s destruction. He experienced, possibly for the first time, the alarming sensation of his stomach lurching, as if he’d been dropped suddenly from a great height. Hannibal longed to drift off into the safety of dissociation, but he could not abandon Will. Not again.  

~~~

Will could feel Hannibal’s distress. He didn’t want to hold his head up anymore, resting all its weight in Hannibal’s hands, eyes downcast. He didn’t want to meet Hannibal’s piercing gaze. Why is he asking me this? How could he not know? It seemed impossible that Hannibal hadn’t understood Will’s motives that awful night, but the horrific feelings he was picking up from the man beside him left no doubt. Oh, fuck! He didn’t know. Will had thought it’d been pretty damned obvious, but it seems that he’d been mistaken. 

Will’s eyes met Hannibal’s of their own accord. Will certainly hadn’t given them permission to do so. Hannibal’s expression was shockingly open, inundating Will with a deluge of powerful emotions. Fear, grief, longing, heartache, regret, reluctance, and a sliver of hope shone bright in his beautiful hazel eyes. That tiny spark of hope made Will’s heart ache, and he was certain his mirrored emotions were just as obvious to Hannibal, as he was still too heavily drugged to hide. It was all too much. He needed it to stop. 

“What difference does it make now?” Will slurred. Talking was still difficult with the drugs Hannibal had given him, which was likely by design. “Just…do what you need to do.” 

Jack didn’t understand Hannibal. How could he? There was no way he could see that this was just as much an act of desperation as Will pulling his knife outside the Ufizi had been. The sad fact was, dying would be so much easier than facing the truth of all they could’ve been with each other. 

It was so much easier to just focus on all the ways they’d hurt one another, believing that freedom could somehow be found with the other’s demise. But Will could see it was too late. Hannibal saw the truth. He always saw Will’s truths. Except for that night, apparently. That painful thought swam around in Will’s mind until he felt his eyes fill with tears. 

~~~

Hannibal was completely frozen, preternaturally still as he knelt at Will’s side. The events of that night had been relegated to a sealed off oubliette in his memory palace, as a locked door had not been protection enough. Now, however, the latch had been thrown open. The events of the worst experience of his adult life playing out against his will, having fallen headfirst into that particularly dangerous hole in the floor of his mind. 

****

Wide, confused ocean eyes stared up at Hannibal as he carefully pierced Will’s abdomen, physically gutting the man he adored just as he had been gutted metaphorically, desperately trying to sever his love for the hateful angel in his arms.

Will seemed so shocked and confused, so betrayed, in that moment. Hannibal refused to pay it any mind, certain that all Will had to offer him was deceit. 

“I let you know me. See me. I gave you a rare gift, but you didn’t want it.”

“Didn’t I?”

****

Hannibal wrenched himself out of the memory before it could further torment him with what he had ripped away from them. All for nothing. Hannibal’s dream for a future, for a family, destroyed in a fit of impulsive heartache, teacup thrown to the floor to truly shatter. He’d been so certain it had all been a lie, that Will had refused him, choosing instead to continue playing the game from both sides, content to deal with the fallout from the winner, thereby allowing his choice to be made for him. Maintaining his agency without the burden of responsibility. Hannibal hadn’t even considered the possibility of any other explanation. 

Will wanted to leave with me. He chose me, and I cut him open, gutted him in my rage. Worse than that, I took Abigail from us. This cannot be true. How can this be true? He betrayed me! It has to be a lie! But even as he fought to convince himself, Hannibal was realizing the truth of the matter. Between what Hannibal had revealed to Will in their conversations and everything that occurred with Randall Tier and Mason Verger, Will had more than enough evidence for Jack to not only obtain search warrants to tear every part of Hannibal’s life and home apart, but enough, even, to have him arrested. 

Hannibal had snapped Mason’s neck right in front of Will, and Jack had never so much as questioned him about it. Will couldn’t possibly have revealed much at all about their time together to Jack. Hannibal had been so certain that it had all been a lie, but now that he considered matters, it seemed much more likely that Will had been lying to Jack every bit as much, if not more than he’d deceived Hannibal as he struggled within himself to work out what he truly wanted. Try as he might, Hannibal could not fault Will for that. 

Hannibal frantically eyed the meal preparation setup next to him and the saw he’d laid upon the table. Will had to understand that eating him would have been his last resort. He simply hadn’t known how else to deal with him, as he’d been certain when he saw Will’s knife that Bedelia had been right, that Will was only here to kill him, another betrayal to make a mockery of the warmth of his eyes and his affectionate smiles. But everything that had just come to light showed Hannibal that he was wrong about that as well, that Will had been struggling just as much as Hannibal, wishing for a way forward but unable to determine how to achieve it. Perhaps, without Jack’s influence, Will would not even have reached for his blade. 

Hannibal was teetering on the edge of losing control of his emotions, the realizations of the past several minutes threatening to overwhelm him. However, this was neither the time nor the place for him to give in to the impending breakdown. He took a deep breath, depositing all of the devastating emotions behind a locked door in his mind to be addressed at a more appropriate moment. For the time being, Will needed him present and level-headed. 

“Will,” Hannibal barely recognized his own voice, soft, breathy, and weak, as his control had withered away to nearly nothing. “I didn’t know. I did not want this. I don’t want this.” He hadn’t let go of Will’s face, and he realized that his fingernails were digging into the tender skin at the nape of Will’s neck. He immediately loosened his grip, stroking Will’s cheeks with his thumbs. He felt the unprecedented sensation of shame, unable to stop himself from hiding his face from the judgment of his beloved. How could I not have seen this?

~~~

Will was certain the drugs were causing him to hallucinate, because Hannibal couldn’t possibly be showing actual contrition, bowing his head in shame. He blinked once, twice, three times, but the image before him didn’t change. Hannibal was kneeling at his feet, hanging his head, cradling Will’s face in his hands.

“You wanna do this as much as I wanted to pull the knife in the courtyard.” Will’s voice was still slightly slurred, words forming slowly. Hannibal finally raised his head at his reply, and Will’s hand, still somewhat numb, twitched with the desire to reach out and run his fingers through Hannibal’s hair. It was darker now, and he found himself briefly consumed with poorly timed thoughts of missing the way it looked before, lighter and brighter with the streaks of blonde and silver. There had been so many different shades it was impossible to give the color a name. 

Hannibal’s expression was still broken and distraught, but he was growing contemplative, and Will could see he was grateful that Will understood. He could feel the energy around them change when Hannibal came to a decision, knowing that whatever new plan the doctor had formed was about to turn his entire world upside down. He found that he welcomed the disruption. Hannibal quirked a questioning eyebrow at him, no doubt trusting Will's perception to understand what he was asking. Will blinked, trying to clear some of the fog from his mind, before firmly meeting Hannibal’s gaze and nodding, slowly and deliberately.

~~~

These revelations changed everything for Hannibal. Hope was not lost for them, so he quickly formulated a new course of action, this time including Will in every step. 

While he was certain he would have been interrupted before he’d been able to do any real damage to Will this time around, Hannibal found he was overwhelmingly grateful that he hadn’t had to go through the motions at all. Will might have struggled to forgive such an action, and it would certainly have made any possible future together that much more difficult and time consuming to achieve. The opportunity to punish Will and torment Jack would not have been worth the potential backlash of that particular bit of theater. 

“We have to leave here, Will.” Hannibal couldn’t stop himself from stroking Will’s face, running his fingers through his hair. Will closed his eyes and sighed, nodding once more while still leaning into Hannibal’s touch. He unbuckled Will’s restraints quickly and efficiently, recognizing the need for haste, feeling grateful for his foresight in leaving a car parked behind this building. 

~~~

Jack had watched the last few minutes unfold with something close to disgust. Will’s demand for his silence shocked him for long enough for the drugs he was on to further disorient him & make him lose his train of thought. Still, he knew when he saw the expression on Will’s face when the doctor knelt at his feet that he was closer to losing Will now than he’d ever been. 

“Come on, Will. Don’t let that performance fool you. You know he was about to kill you! Eat you! Feed you to me like one of his pigs!” Jack was practically pleading now, reluctant to acknowledge that it was completely futile. Neither man was paying him any mind. He’d begun to think that Chilton had been right when he’d said that Hannibal disemboweling Will had been “tantamount to flirtation” for these men, and it made him wonder just how little he really knew about who Will truly was. 

~~~

Hannibal ignored Jack’s continued protests, focusing all of his attention on ensuring Will’s comfort as he prepared them to take their leave. He had a go-bag in the car, of course, so they could get away with only bringing Hannibal’s medical bag with them. 

“Do you think you can stand on your own yet, Will?” Hannibal asked quietly, leaning down to once again run his fingers through Will’s beautiful hair. Will looked down at his legs, which barely moved, before shaking his head and closing his eyes. The man needed rest. 

Hannibal dropped his medical bag into Will’s lap. “Hold on to this for me, please, would you?” Hannibal asked with an indulgent smile, then leaned down to scoop Will up into his arms, restraining himself from chuckling at Will’s indignant squawk. Hannibal carried Will bridal style toward the service entrance at the back of the apartment. He would not to risk running into La Qestura on their way out, or anyone else that may come for them. 

“Thought you were injured.” Hannibal had to suppress a shiver when Will’s breath ghosted over his neck as he spoke. He’d spent an unreasonable amount of time fantasizing about Will breathing into his neck in a multitude of other, more tantalizing scenarios, but now was not the time to focus on such things. 

“I assure you, I can manage. Although I may ask you to open a door or two for me.” Will just hummed and laid his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, warming his entire being. Will was at least able to move his arms enough to open the back door for them, which made the whole endeavor much easier, as Hannibal wanted to make it to the car as quickly as possible.

“Why’re we rushing?” Will asked as they descended the back stairs. Will was dissecting Hannibal with his gaze. Even drugged, Will saw more than most, no doubt realizing that given what Hannibal had planned, there should have been plenty of time for them to wait for the drugs to wear off so that Will could at least walk. Hannibal just glanced at him briefly, ignoring his question in favor of paying close attention to the staircase in order to prevent a misstep. Will, however, was not so easily deterred. 

“Ooooh, you’re expecting company. Runnin’ from Chiyoh?” Will’s sudden slip into his long-forgotten Louisiana drawl was absolutely delightful. “No, not her. She shot me for you. She wouldn’t hurt you.”

“While unlikely, it’s not an impossibility, considering the circumstances. But no, I’m not running from her. In fact, this would have been easier had she arrived earlier. There are others apart from Chiyoh that will no doubt find this place soon.” There was no point trying to keep the truth of the situation from Will. Given the revelations of the last fifteen minutes, it was likely Hannibal would have ended up confessing it all before long in any case. 

It took at least 20 seconds longer than it normally would have for Will’s mind to make the appropriate connections. When he did, he surprised Hannibal by laughing. The sound was such a rarity that Hannibal savored it like the finest of arias. 

“You weren’t gonna go through with it. Why else would you stall for so long, if you knew company was comin’?” Will’s wide, borderline goofy grin would very likely embarrass him if he weren’t still feeling the effects of the drugs. Still, his words helped Hannibal make a few connections of his own. 

“I imagine my actions were motivated by the very same things that prompted you to wait to pull you blade until we were in an open public space, knowing full well that Chiyoh and her rifle beat you to Florence.” Hannibal had reached conclusions of his own, after all. He looked down at the lovely man in his arms with an eyebrow raised in question. Sure enough, Will’s grin disappeared. They'd just reached the building’s rear exit, and Will took the opportunity to look away sheepishly as he opened the door for them. 

“Violence is what we understand,” Will whispered so quietly that Hannibal nearly missed it, as they approached the passenger door of their car. He carefully placed Will back on his feet, holding him steady with one arm as he took his medical bag and opened Will’s door for him, all the while contemplating Will’s whispered words. 

Hannibal looked over at Will after sliding into the driver’s seat. His heart ached with longing, even with him so near. There was so much pain between them, so much violence, both physical and emotional, but that was not all that they’d shared. It was certainly not all they were capable of. Will was looking out the passenger window, avoiding Hannibal’s stare. 

Reaching across the console, Hannibal took Will’s hand in his own. He would not ask for eye contact while he was feeling particularly vulnerable, but he hoped he might be able to earn it.

Slowly, he brought Will’s hand to his lips, bowing his head to press the softest of kisses on his palm. Will whipped his head around, his gaze snapping to Hannibal’s, sea glass eyes delving directly into the doctor’s soul. 

“Perhaps it has simply been the least frightening option available to us.” Hannibal took a deep breath, making sure to allow all of his emotions to show on his face. He would not hide from Will in a moment like this. They were approaching a potential breakthrough in their relationship, and Hannibal now recognized that the only way forward for them would require vulnerability on his part, terrifying as it was. 

“Now, however, I would like to be brave enough to try for something gentler.” Hannibal made sure to let all of his devotion bleed into his voice and expression. Will swallowed roughly, eyes so wide they suddenly, painfully reminded Hannibal of rain slicked hair and blood soaked tile. He blinked the image away, refusing to sully this moment. After one more gentle kiss, this time to Will’s knuckles, Hannibal released his hand to start the car and drive off toward their new beginning, leaving Will to stare at him, his perfect cheeks flushed and breath coming just a bit quicker. 

Chapter Text

Hannibal Lecter is in love with me. 

The truth of it hit Will like a battering ram to the chest, stealing his breath and shattering all of the beliefs Will had been clinging to regarding what existed between them. Before that moment of achingly honest tenderness, he’d been able to convince himself that Hannibal’s primary interest in his friendship had been the amusement of a particularly shiny, favored toy. Or perhaps a pet. 

It had made him feel ridiculous and pathetic for being unable to let go of his own complicated feelings of attachment, having been ready to give up his entire life and run away with Hannibal regardless. He’d spent months feeling like a pitiful mess, pining after a man he believed cared more about Will’s obedience and loyalty as a protégé than he did about Will himself. 

On that awful night, he’d been certain that Hannibal had understood his intentions to leave together, but punished him anyway because he’d made his choice too late. That he’d simply missed his chance. With the benefit of hindsight, Will had been able to see that their last supper had been both an offer of Hannibal’s forgiveness for, and a plea for Will to turn away from, his planned betrayal. Will should’ve seen it, but at the time, he’d been so focused on following through to the end, stalling as long as he could on making his choice so that he could let his instincts take over in the end. 

Will wondered if Hannibal had been in love with him then, too. Memories of Hannibal’s haunted eyes, waves of overwhelming grief, rage, and pain rolling off of him, smothering Will with their intensity, made Will fairly certain that he had been. In place of the knife, he felt a gut full of shame for failing to accept the true depth of Hannibal’s feelings for him that night. 

The silence in the car had grown thick with tension, so much left unresolved between them. So many new possibilities ahead of them. Will should probably say something. He’d been completely silent for so long, his thoughts weren’t even all that muddled anymore, repeatedly turning the epiphany of Hannibal’s love over and over in his mind, examining it from every angle. Hannibal had allowed himself to be fully open and vulnerable with Will for the first time, which had to be incredibly difficult for a man who’d avoided all aspects of vulnerability for so long, likely decades, before Will was thrown into his life. 

Will should tell Hannibal that he also wanted to try something gentler, that he wanted more between them than just an endless cycle of manipulation and violence, a zero-sum game of seduction and betrayal. He should, at the very least, confirm directly that he really had wanted to run away with Hannibal before and was ready to commit to it now. 

“Do you ever regret meeting me?” What the fuck was that? Will decided to blame the lingering effects of the drugs on that regrettable non-sequitur. Unfortunately, though, the pain and doubt caused by Hannibal’s very real abandonment of him in favor of a certain bitchy blonde ice queen hadn’t dissipated in the wake of the realizations he was still trying to wrap his head around. 

From his expression, Hannibal was equally taken aback by the question. His brows were drawn together, mouth twisted into the closest thing to a grimace Will had ever seen on his face, somewhat shocking after all this time of seeing almost exclusively microexpressions, even when Hannibal was overwhelmed with emotion. Still, now that the question was out there, Will found he desperately wanted to know the answer. 

“It’s a reasonable thing for me to wonder. You’d built a pretty great life for yourself before I came along. You had everything going for you. Renowned personally and professionally, the entirety of the medical and psychiatric profession as well as the Baltimore elite fawning all over you. You certainly seemed happy. Now, because of me, you’ve lost everything. Your reputation, your practice, at least some of your wealth, though I’m certain you kept most of that squirreled away using aliases and offshore accounts.” Will sighed, raising his good arm to rub his hand over his mouth. 

“I took all that away from you. It’s not unreasonable to wonder if you’d wish you’d never met me.” Will hated how insecure he sounded, but there was nothing he could do to change it. He was exhausted, the drugs were wearing off, he was starting to feel the multitude of aches and pains throughout his body, and he’d run the gamut of extreme emotions over the last several hours, to say nothing of nearly having some part of his body fed to him. Probably my brain, knowing Hannibal, he thought wryly. Will was entitled to a little goddamn validation. 

At the next stoplight, Hannibal looked over at Will, eyes shining with fondness and sincerity, and said in a thick, quiet voice, “How could I possibly regret the exquisite joy and terror of finally being seen, being known, particularly by someone for whom I care so deeply? A successful career and the admiration of fools cannot possibly compare to what your presence in my life has offered me. I’d give up everything I own if it meant keeping you by my side, Will. So no, I most certainly do not regret meeting you.”

Will’s breath hitched at the naked adoration written all over Hannibal’s face. When the light changed and Hannibal turned back to the road, Will realized with embarrassment that his eyes had filled with tears. As validation went, he wasn’t sure it could get much better than that. 

“Good to know,” Will replied gruffly. 

Will wasn’t sure how to handle this abrupt change in the nature of their relationship. Hannibal had apparently decided to completely dispense with their usual routine of veiled meanings hidden under layers of metaphor in favor of directness. The emotional whiplash was jarring.

Unbidden, flashes of the last time he’d seen Hannibal so emotionally unguarded flashed through his mind. Hannibal had looked so broken that night. It was as if all the light that had previously animated him had been snuffed out entirely, leaving behind a void of complete darkness. Devastation, rage, and aching grief flowed off of him, overwhelming Will’s empathy. Hannibal’s cracked open gaze had screamed, “How could you do this to us?”  

“Will?” Hannibal’s concerned voice snatched him back from the torment of his memories. Will was grateful he hadn’t had time to spiral too far into them. “Where have your thoughts taken you now? Something else is troubling you.”  

Will hated it when Hannibal read him so well. Hated it almost as much as he loved it. Regardless, Will was in no way ready to handle that particular land mine of conversation. Nor was he ready to address Hannibal’s adoration for him, let alone his own for Hannibal. Instead, he decided to broach another particularly vexing topic that was haunting him. Wrath flowed through his veins as he recalled his encounter with Bedelia, once again choosing the easier option of violence. 

“Jack wasn’t the only person I ran into before finding you at the gallery.” Will turned to face Hannibal, not wanting to miss a single reaction to this particular subject. Sure enough, Hannibal’s eyes narrowed just a bit, jaw tightening ever so slightly. Anyone else would have missed such slight tells, but Will saw everything. “I had the privilege of your wife’s company at the apartment you two shared. It was enlightening.” Will had been going for contemptuous, but his words came out sounding far more wounded than he would’ve liked. 

He was struck with a sudden, visceral need to return to the city, track the woman down, and tear the bitch to shreds with his bare hands. Only the fact that she’d certainly already been “rescued” by police kept him from demanding Hannibal turn the car around. Will was sure the doctor would be thrilled to watch him unleash the feral beast inside of him on her. 

“Will, I assure you, she and I—” Hannibal was clearly ready to spin some tale to minimize the reality of his relationship with that harpy. Will was in no mood to hear it, so he cut him off. 

“What, you couldn’t smell her on me?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Will realized his mistake, considering what he had worked out as the likely cause of Hannibal’s discovery of Will’s betrayal. Unsurprisingly, Hannibal stilled completely, his eyes darkening dangerously. 

“No.” Hannibal’s voice was blood and ice. “On this particular occasion, I did not smell any of your recent interactions on you.” The temperature in the car seemed to have dropped 20 degrees, yet it did nothing to cool Will’s own fury.

“Really, Hannibal? You want to bring that up right now? You think my lying about Freddie Lounds excuses your running off with that little blonde viper immediately after abandoning me in a pool of blood on your kitchen floor, one hand clutching my intestines, the other holding the corpse of our surrogate daughter?” Will’s rage had boiled over entirely, the urge to lash out increasingly difficult to resist. 

Hannibal was clearly losing his grasp on controlling himself as well, gripping the wheel so hard Will was surprised he didn’t break the damn thing off the steering column. Will knew he was on dangerous ground, but there was no stopping him now. Besides, Will was arguably a monster in his own right. “I wonder if I’d even come out of my coma before you fucked her for the first time. Or hell, maybe she even helped you clean Abigail’s and my blood off your body that same fucking night!” 

Hannibal jerked the steering wheel, abruptly pulling over to the side of the road. The sudden move jarred Will’s thoughts enough to briefly silence him. Hannibal struck with inhuman speed, gripping Will’s throat, not hard enough to choke, but with more than enough strength to hold Will where he wanted him. Not to be outdone, Will reached out to dig the fingers of his left hand as far around Hannibal’s trachea as possible, ready to grip with all his might and rip it out. Hannibal’s wheezing breaths were nearly as heavy as Will’s as they glared at each other, brutality stirring behind two pairs of dangerously vicious eyes. Time seemed to stretch thin as they stared each other down. 

Jesus fucking Christ, you’ve got to be kidding me! The sudden display of mutual violence combined with the catharsis of emotional release was infuriatingly arousing, and a significant amount of his blood had been redirected to his groin embarrassingly quickly. Will only hoped that Hannibal couldn’t tell. But, of course, he couldn’t possibly be that lucky. His monster was entirely too perceptive. 

Will watched as the rage in his eyes shifted to smug amusement. Hannibal closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, as deeply as Will’s grip would allow, every bit of the fight leaving him with a fiercely satisfied sigh. They released each other simultaneously, coughing and clearing their throats. Hannibal’s Cheshire Cat grin made Will want to smack him, but he found himself smirking before he could stop it. 

Hannibal’s eyes sparkled as he stroked his throat where Will’s fingers had left their mark. There would certainly be bruises, and had his nails been any longer, he would have broken the skin. Will cut him off  just as Hannibal opened his mouth to speak, certain that anything to come out of his arrogant, perfect mouth in that moment would just piss Will off even more. Will was determined to ignore his poorly-timed erection, even if Hannibal clearly didn’t want to.    

“Take that fucking ring off your finger unless you want to lose the entire hand.” Most of the venom was gone from Will’s voice, but the truth of his pain was already out there. The wound was raw, and there was still a snarling beast prowling in his chest, clawing for freedom every time he caught sight of the sun glinting off the infernal band of metal around Hannibal’s left ring finger. The damnable trinket taunted him with the reality of Hannibal replacing him. Will turned away to look out the passenger window, not wanting the doctor to continue reading the conflicting emotions warring for dominance within him.  

“Of course, Will.” Hannibal removed the ring without hesitation, tossing it out the window without a second glance. Will didn’t want to acknowledge the relief brought on by such casual disregard. “In truth, I had forgotten it was even there. It was nothing more than a meaningless prop. As was the façade of marriage.”

“The technicalities of the marriage, or lack thereof, make no difference and you know it.” Will was in no mood for Hannibal’s typical half-truths and obfuscations. “The fact is, you lived with her, shared your life with her for over 8 months. The life you were meant to share with me…with us. And I know damn well that your relationship did not lack…intimacy.” Will’s mouth snarled around the word. “It took no effort at all to read the truth of that in my conversation with her, even if it hadn't been a one bedroom apartment.”

“If you would allow me the opportunity to explain further, you would see that—”

“Oh, I have no doubt that you could paint a picture of your time together that makes it more palatable, but I’m not interested in choking it down.” Will knew Hannibal despised being interrupted, but he wasn’t feeling particularly patient. Most of his anger had evaporated, as months of longing for Hannibal’s presence seemed to have made it impossible to cling to, but he was still in the mood to poke the bear. 

“I have neither the intention nor desire to lie to you, Will. I have not done so since giving you my word that I wouldn’t. In any case, lies and obfuscation are entirely unnecessary to clarify the truth of my relationship with Dr. Du Maurier.” Will would never admit it, but he was petty enough to enjoy the way Hannibal was referring to her so formally. Turning back toward Hannibal, needing to read the truth of his words, Will nodded for the doctor to speak. 

~~~

A tempest of conflicting emotions stirred within Hannibal’s heart. He recognized the delicate nature of the subject, as well as Will’s obvious desire to ignore the erotically charged moment that had just passed between them. Such a feat was incredibly difficult, however, given that it was not only the first honest, direct confrontation in which their emotions flowed freely, but also the first time Will had become so profoundly aroused with him. His delicious, spicy musk still perfuming the air of the enclosed car was far stronger than the subtle whiffs Hannibal would occasionally pick up during their time together in Baltimore. He wished it were possible to bottle the scent. 

Hannibal took a moment to contemplate the events of the last several minutes as he pulled the car back onto the road. He desperately wanted to know whether it was the intimacy and intensity of the emotional release, or simply the violence itself, that triggered such a powerful sexual response. He hoped for the former, but feared the latter was more likely. Unfortunately, it was something they would have to address another time, as Will had definitively shut the door on that subject for the time being. 

Hannibal would have to handle this situation delicately if he wished to prevent putting additional distance between them, even if a sizable part of him wished to prod at Will to further explore his possessiveness – an intense jealousy over Bedelia’s presence in his life was both understandable and extremely gratifying. It also provided additional clarity regarding Will’s decision to pull his knife after their reunion.  

“It’s important to me that you understand that I did not leave you with the intention of going to her. At the time, I had been unaware of Dr. Du Maurier’s return to Baltimore. My plan was to simply use her home to clean up before making my way to the airport. She surprised me as I was in the middle of doing so.” Hannibal was careful not to mask his emotions, allowing Will to read his sincerity. It appeared to be effective, as Will remained silent, allowing him to continue. “She has always been intrigued by me from a psychological standpoint. She also saw in me an outlet to explore the less-than-savory aspects of her own nature. I will admit that there was once a time, long before you came crashing into my life, that I had considered her a potential candidate for companionship.

“However, the fact is that our relationship had been transactional from the beginning. I provided her with a particularly fascinating subject for psychiatric observation and offered her an opportunity to explore her own inner darkness. In return, her presence with me simplified potentially difficult travel circumstances.”

“That’s hardly a fair trade. What else did her presence offer you?” Will’s fury was blatant, the sharp scent of his rage tickling his nostrils. Hannibal recognized the need to tread carefully while still being honest. A delicate balancing act, indeed. 

“I recognized the potential advantage in keeping my therapist close during such a difficult time, given my particularly poor state of mind. With the benefit of hindsight, I’ve come to realize this was likely more of a hindrance than an advantage. Although there is a chance that I may have behaved in a much more destructive manner had she not provided some manner of distraction for me. 

“Our relationship was entirely chaste for months after our departure from Baltimore. I can assure you that neither warmth nor true passion was ever present in any form of intimacy that may have existed between us.” 

In his periphery, Hannibal noticed Will grimace before turning away, clearly upset by the direction the conversation had taken. His silence felt more ominous than it had moments before. A change of approach was needed. 

“Would it help at all to know that she is now fully aware that she’s been living on borrowed time throughout the duration of our European sojourn?” At that, Will visibly perked up, whipping back around to face Hannibal again expectantly. “She was made aware of this fact by a particularly observant dinner guest who pointed out that her meal consisted entirely of foods used by the Romans to improve the flavor of their livestock.”

Will threw his head back and exploded into laughter, the likes of which Hannibal hadn’t seen since their very first shared meal, making his entire compact frame shake. Will turned back toward him as the tension between them eased, allowing Hannibal to breathe a small sigh of relief. 

“Damn, I wish I could have been there for that!” Will was still chuckling, his face alight with mirth, but his words caused Hannibal to flinch internally. He was entirely certain that Will would not have been pleased about that particular dinner conversation, Bedelia’s discomfort notwithstanding. Unfortunately, Will’s all-seeing eyes caught the change in Hannibal’s demeanor. His amusement quickly gave way to narrow-eyed suspicion.

“Tell me about this dinner guest.” Will’s head tilted slightly with the demand. His razor-sharp focus was reading every minute change in Hannibal’s expression. There was no possible way to hide anything from the full force of Will Graham’s preternatural perception. Honesty was the only option. If he held anything back now, Will would know. 

“You have seen him. Well, most of him anyway.” It took less than 10 seconds for Will to realize what he was implying. “I would like to clarify that his fate was not in any way related to the information he inadvertently revealed.”

“I sure as hell hope the heart you left for me didn’t come from someone who died for offending Bedelia. What exactly was it that decided his fate?” Will’s icy demeanor was as disconcerting as it was arousing. He could clearly tell that there was something Hannibal was less than comfortable revealing. “Actually, scratch that. I want to know everything there is to know about him. Start to finish.” Perhaps Hannibal had miscalculated in his decision to reveal as much as he had. 

“Very well,” Hannibal began with a sigh. “His name was Antony Dimmond. We first became acquainted at a party in Paris the night I was hunting the original owners of the identities I took over for Dr. Du Maurier and myself. He expressed an interest in me, so it wasn’t surprising when he recognized me when our paths crossed in Florence. He discovered that I had taken over Dr. Fell’s identity, so it was necessary for him to die.” 

Will’s expectant stare made it clear that he knew there was more to the story. 

“Mr. Dimmond reminded me of you, in various ways.” 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” Will’s voice was dangerously cold, his jaw clenched tight, muscles and tendons of his jaw and neck rippling with agitation. His jealous rage was absolutely stunning. 

“I did.” Hannibal wanted to fan those particular flames as high as he could.

“How many times?” Will asked through gritted teeth. 

“Once in Paris, and once in Florence when he expressed an interest in joining me after he learned I had taken over Dr. Fell’s identity. Afterward, I invited him back to the apartment and killed him.” Hannibal breathed in a lungful of the electric scent of Will’s fury, savoring it as he would the bouquet of a particularly fine wine. “The dinner I mentioned took place the night before I took his life. At the table, he expressed interest in a ménage à trois, which was respectfully declined. And that, my dear Will, is ‘everything there is to know about him.’” 

For several minutes, Will was silent as Hannibal observed his reactions in his periphery. Will’s eyes were closed, lips set in a grim line, as he took a number of measured breaths, clearly working to calm himself. 

“I can see why you wouldn’t have wanted me there for that particular meal.”  Will sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. “So, he showed up, looking like me, essentially offering you what you believed I’d denied you. That certainly clarifies a few things.”

Will was quiet for a few moments, tapping his fingers against his thigh, before his contemptuous voice filled the small space once again. “I suppose I should be glad you rejected his offer. Though, I probably ought to get used to your random affairs anyway, given your predisposition to taking a lover whenever I displease you.” 

“That is hardly fair, Will. Do you honestly believe I would continue having affairs while sharing my life with you?” Hannibal couldn’t help but take offense at Will’s assumption. 

“It’s not a ridiculous notion, Hannibal.” Will rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. “Look, I understand now that I underestimated the extent of your feelings for me, but the fact is that when I pissed you off last year, you took up with Alana. Then kept sleeping with her throughout the entirety of our…whatever we had going on back in Baltimore. Then you replaced me entirely with Bedelia when you thought I’d betrayed you. Why would I expect anything different moving forward? You have a tendency to take a particularly punitive approach with me.” 

“And look where that approach has gotten us, Will. I am capable of acknowledging my mistakes and adjusting my behavior accordingly.” Will’s interpretation of events made Hannibal sound childish and petty. “Besides, I happen to find infidelity extremely distasteful.”

“And yet…” 

“I don’t believe it’s appropriate to categorize any of my other relationships before this point as infidelity.” In truth, Will was being entirely unreasonable by doing so, frustrating Hannibal with his continued underestimation of his devotion. “I consider this to be the true beginning of our lives together. Everything leading up to this moment has been courtship. From here on, there will be no one else, provided you’re willing to agree to the same.” 

The air around them was crackling with tension as Will considered Hannibal’s words. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Will sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The atmosphere between them shifted, no longer feeling quite so dangerous. 

“What if I don’t want sex?” Will tone had surprisingly taken a decidedly playful turn, amusement now shining in his ocean eyes. Oh, how I wish I could see the inner workings of your extraordinary mind, beloved. Ordinarily, Hannibal would be more than happy to play along with whatever flirtatious game Will was playing. Now, however, it was important for Will to understand his intentions.

“You can’t possibly believe that sex is a prerequisite for fidelity? The foundation of our relationship is not built on anything as simple as sexuality.” As deeply as Hannibal yearned to explore every centimeter of Will’s body, their bond transcended sex. “In truth, I wasn’t certain you would even entertain the notion. I considered the possibility of your American ideas of heteronormativity holding you back.”

“I should probably be offended by that,” Will scoffed. “I’m not homophobic, but having grown up in the South, I’m certainly familiar with what you’re referring to.

“I’ve never had much cause to examine my sexuality, but I guess if someone had asked me before you came along, I would have said I was straight.” The implication of Will’s attraction to him made Hannibal’s heart sing. “I’ve never really been all that attracted to anyone, unless I’d formed some kind of mental or emotional bond with them. Considering how rare that’s always been for me, you can imagine why I’d never given the issue much thought.” 

“Your language implies that circumstances have since arisen to give you cause to question your identity as heterosexual.” Hannibal fought back a smirk. Teasing Will about his attraction was dangerous enough. He was, however, entirely too elated to bother attempting to hide his glee. 

“How astute, Hannibal.” Will’s voice dripped with sarcasm, yet it was inadequate for hiding his discomfort with the conversation. “Thanks to you, I can no longer call myself a heterosexual man. Congratulations!” Will glared at him, but the rosy blush on his alabaster cheeks betrayed his embarrassment. Hannibal decided not to prolong his torment, instead reaching over to grasp Will’s hand, gently stroking his thumb across his knuckles. Will’s next breath was slightly shaky as he squeezed Hannibal’s fingers in response. 

“Nevertheless, I am aware that attraction does not necessarily equate to desire. The only forms of intimacy I’m interested in sharing with you are those you freely offer. I would be perfectly content with you even if the only physical intimacy we ever share falls entirely outside the realm of sexuality.” 

“Still, contentment is not the same as happiness, Doctor.” The mischievous glint was back in Will’s voice as he gave Hannibal a crooked grin. Oh, how Hannibal adored it when Will flirted with him.

“Perhaps not. However, I would much rather tend to my own physical desires myself for the rest of my days than live without you.” The temptation to plant images of Hannibal pleasuring himself into Will’s mind was too strong to resist.

Will cleared his throat and squirmed a bit in his seat. The familiar, intoxicating scent of Will’s desire suddenly permeating the air let Hannibal know his remark landed just as he’d hoped.

After the car rolled to a stop at a red light, Will hummed thoughtfully, drawing Hannibal’s gaze to him. Will looked up at Hannibal from under his long, thick lashes, somehow making himself appear simultaneously seductive and demure.

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I happen to want everything, isn’t it?” Will’s voice was silk sliding over gravel, the very definition of sultry. His eyes had darkened, pupils dilated, with the most alluring expression that Hannibal had ever seen grace the wicked boy’s features. 

Will’s self-satisfied chuckle was vexing, snapping him out of an apparent stupor as he realized that he’d apparently been staring, dumbfounded, at Will long enough to miss the light changing to green. 

It was Hannibal’s turn to clear his throat, fighting the need to adjust himself against the tightness of his slacks as he whispered, “A very good thing, indeed.” 

Chapter Text

At Hannibal’s encouragement, Will explored the interior of their Livornian villa as the doctor put away the groceries they’d picked up on their trip. 

He was faced with tangible proof not only of how well Hannibal understood him, but also his willingness to compromise his own desires in deference to Will’s. Hannibal hadn’t prioritized his own sensibilities, despite the fact that he’d been a solitary creature, utterly set in his lavish ways, for decades. 

Will had been expecting opulence on a similar scale to the ostentatious Florentine flat, or at least the dark and moody grandeur of Hannibal’s sprawling Baltimore house. Instead, he was surrounded by understated, rustic elegance inside the reasonably sized, two story home. It was the kind of style that his past self had imagined would suit both of their tastes, on the rare moments he’d allowed himself to think about it. It was all subdued, comfortable luxury, from the cherry and mahogany wood furniture and built-in bookshelves to the plush, inviting sofas and chairs, the walls painted in warm muted earth tones in every room. 

Will wasn’t entirely certain why he’d chosen this option when Hannibal told him of its existence, considering the way he’d initially cringed at the idea of actually seeing the home the doctor had intended for the three of them. Even Hannibal had been hesitant about it, admitting he wasn't sure if it would be a good idea for either of them. 

In the end, he’d left the choice to Will, offering the option of a hotel while he found a different temporary home for them. As he wandered through the villa, he found himself increasingly sure that he’d made the right choice.  

Hannibal had gone through considerable effort to create a home where Will would feel comfortable. He’d been expecting to feel an overwhelming sense of grief and loss as he roamed around the house, so it was surprising to instead be overcome with warmth and reassurance. Abigail would surely have been able to adjust to any form of luxury and opulence, but Will hadn’t ever been one for gaudy extravagance, and there was none to be found here. 

Hannibal really did love him. It wasn’t just obsession or possession. Will wasn’t merely someone he wanted to keep around to amuse his whims, as had obviously been the case with Bedelia. Hannibal meant it when he said he wanted to share his life with Will. 

Of course, the ache of Abigail’s loss was also present. That was unavoidable, as Will could imagine all too easily how happy she would have been here. There was even a massive TV downstairs in the living room, albeit hung on the wall in such a way as to minimize its visual impact. It comforted Will in an odd way to know that Hannibal’s pretentious nature could only compromise so far. 

Upstairs, Will froze in the doorway of the larger of the two bedrooms on one side of the house, the ache in his chest rising exponentially. It had to have been the room meant for her. 

Unlike the other, fully decorated bedroom, this one had been stripped completely. No drapes, no rugs, no decor, a bare mattress – it was the only room in the house not ready to be lived in. The way Hannibal had everything removed made Will feel just how badly the doctor had been affected. He could read the man’s motivations in this as easily as he could a crime scene. Hanniba had made certain he wouldn’t have to be faced with anything that had been meant for Abigail, completely avoiding handling the task of clearing out her room himself. So very unusual for a control freak like him. The Hannibal he’d thought he’d known hadn’t been afraid to face anything. 

There was something to be said for knowing he wasn’t alone in his grief, even though Hannibal was the cause of it. Realizing that a man like him, who’d taken countless lives since his adolescence, had been affected to such a degree gave Will a strange sense of reassurance. From the moment he took Abigail’s life, he’d known that Hannibal was hurting himself right along with Will, a joint punishment for their sins. The punishment may very well have been worse for him, given the months he and Abigail had spent together. Will could reluctantly admit to himself that his own relationship with Abigail had been almost exclusively within the confines of his own mind. Seeing a physical manifestation of regret like this meant more to Will than any apology Hannibal could ever utter. 

With a heavy, cleansing breath, Will closed the door to her room. He shared Hannibal’s perspective: if it couldn’t be Abigail’s, it wouldn’t be anyone’s. 

The hallway on the other side of the house led to the master suite and a study with full bookshelves, a drawing table, desk, and a plush, inviting leather sofa with two matching armchairs. 

The master suite was cozy but spacious, decorated in varying shades of blues and grays. The massive bed was made up and called to his growing fatigue like a siren. Two armchairs sat across from each other before a fireplace in the corner of the room, just to the side of double doors leading out to a lovely terrace. The view of the sun starting to set over the Tyrrhenian Sea was incredible. He could imagine standing here, Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him, as he leaned against the terrace railing. 

Both the closet and dresser were filled with clothes, some of which were his style, likely tailored to his measurements. The shirt and slacks Hannibal had dressed him in back in Florence certainly fit him perfectly. He was also certain that the closet and dresser in the smaller guest bedroom would also contain clothes for him. Hannibal wouldn’t have wanted to be too presumptuous, after all. 

Will already loved this house, which was infuriating since they certainly wouldn’t be able to stay here for long, despite Hannibal’s insistence that everyone searching for them would assume they’d fled the country. He felt a wave of gratitude that Hannibal had let him explore this place on his own. He needed to experience this without Hannibal’s influence at his back, hiss emotions mixing up with Will’s own. This way, he knew with complete certainty that every emotion he’d experienced was his alone.

It didn’t escape his notice that Hannibal was making an obvious effort to allow Will his own space and agency, despite the fact that he undoubtedly wanted to stay attached to his side, making all of their decisions as he thought best for them. Hannibal was putting forth genuine effort, and it filled his belly with a soft, warm glow of contentment. He turned to head back downstairs, certain that by now, his monster was in the kitchen stirring with agitation about Will’s reaction. 

~~~

In the kitchen, Hannibal was exercising all of the restraint he possessed to stay focused on preparing dinner. He felt the magnetic pull toward his mate as he explored the upper level of the place intended to be their family home, concerned that Will’s grief over Abigail was currently overwhelming him. 

Hannibal had been fighting his own emotions from the moment they pulled into the driveway. Seeing the villa in person for the first time rattled the locked door to Abigail’s corridor of his mind palace. She would have loved it here.

Compartmentalization had alway come easy to him, even when necessity dictated that he kill or allow the death of someone he’d been fond of. He’d allowed his feelings for Abigail to venture far beyond mere fondness, however, particularly after they faked her death together in order to free her from Jack Crawford’s questing grasp. It had undoubtedly been a lapse in judgment on his part, allowing himself to bond with her as he had before they were safely away from the dangers Baltimore presented. Yet even with the pain of her death, he couldn’t say that he would do things differently. No, his remorse was entirely focused on the way he had lashed out against her in a moment of unforgivable impulsivity.    

Before his thoughts could spiral into that deep well of regret, Hannibal took a breath. He was still unaccustomed to the sensation of remorse. He took a moment to center himself, redirecting the entirety of his focus to ensuring the first meal he created for Will in this new life was spectacular. 

His Will had been particularly shocked when, as they were perusing the market stalls, Hannibal asked him what he would prefer for their dinner. His shock was certainly understandable, given that it was the first time Hannibal had ever taken anything other than a person’s allergies or other food intolerances into consideration for a meal. But the doctor was determined to push past his own need for control in all things, even those most precious to him, to ensure they embarked on this journey together as equals.

Will had requested pasta, something rich and hearty, as he was “absolutely fucking starving.” He’d apparently not eaten anything since dinner was served on his train ride the previous evening. 

“Your shitty soup-marinade certainly doesn’t count,” his beloved had sniped, softening the bite of his words with a smirk. The moment had given Hannibal hope that they really would be able to get past the near-disaster of that afternoon. 

There was always a particular challenge in elevating a simple dish into something extraordinary. It was something Hannibal was certain he would find himself doing more and more as he continued to take Will’s culinary preferences into account. While he never shied away from any meal Hannibal presented him with, he was undoubtedly more comfortable with more straightforward fare than the intricate creations Hannibal had been known for. 

He was just finishing up plating a bruschetta antipasto when he heard Will descending the staircase. Hannibal steeled himself for any number of possibilities as he wiped his hands and picked up the plate to present to his mate. He refused to remain within reach of the kitchen knives, not wanting Will to think he expected the worst from him. 

Leaning against the raised bar of the kitchen island, he sipped his wine and absently rotated the plate of bruschetta to find the most aesthetically pleasing angle, listening to Will’s approaching footsteps. Unable to delay any longer, he lifted his gaze to see what awaited him in Will’s expression. 

He had been prepared for anger, even fury, or perhaps the deep sadness of grief. It was astonishing to instead find a small, tender smile on Will’s lips and understanding fondness in his eyes. The sight was enough to tighten his throat and make his eyes burn. Although unable to grasp the full meaning behind Will’s expression, there was no doubt that he had underestimated Will yet again. The brilliant boy must have understood at least some of Hannibal’s motivations in the preparation of this home in order for him to react in such a way.

Hannibal found himself drifting toward his beloved without conscious thought, his own iron fillings constantly drawn to the lodestone that was Will. He nearly reached out to stroke his beautiful cheek, but thought better of it just as he raised his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin this moment by triggering memories of that awful night. Instead, he grasped Will’s hand in his own, stroking his thumb over rough knuckles. 

“I made the right call coming here.” The sound of Will’s voice released the last of his tension. Exhaling with relief, Hannibal pulled him into an embrace, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head, stroking through his soft waves. Will tucked his face into the crook of his neck and whispered, “You really did make a place for us.” The sensation of Will’s lips tickling his throat as he held Hannibal just as firmly in return made him euphoric. For the first time, they held one another without any form of violence between them. 

“I did,” he whispered into Will’s ear. Hannibal was rapturous, fiercely pleased that he hadn’t decided to keep the existence of this home to himself. Perhaps this would be the ideal place for them to simply enjoy one another’s company, free from any outside influence. 

His vision had blurred with tears the moment Will returned his embrace. Before they could finally overflow, he gave Will’s torso one last gentle squeeze before pulling away, clearing his throat to ensure his voice didn’t break.

“Antipasto, bruschetta with fresh Roma tomatoes and locally sourced olive oil from Terre di Pisa.” He couldn’t resist reaching out to brush Will’s curls back from his forehead as he gestured toward the plate, “Help yourself while I finish preparing our main course.”

“Want any help?” Will didn’t hesitate to dive in, closing his eyes in pleasure as he took a sizable bit of the bruschetta.

“I believe I have everything in hand. I’m not certain you have enough sensation back in your hand to trust you with using a knife safely just yet.” Hannibal glanced at his injured shoulder. “Has the discomfort become bothersome? It’s important to take medication before the pain becomes too severe. Pain is far easier to prevent than it is to control.”

“I’ve been trying not to think about that too much. Everything else hurts as much as it did this morning, but my shoulder only hurts a little. My arm’s still pretty numb, so I'm a little worried about nerve damage.” Will took a sip of water, as wine would not be entirely safe for him to drink until tomorrow, when every bit of the drug cocktail was out of his system. 

“There’s nothing to be concerned about, Will,” Hannibal reassured him. He took a moment to enjoy a bit of their antipasto as the veal finished browning. “The nerve block I administered will likely take another hour or two to fully wear off, so the continued reduced sensation is entirely normal. I was exceedingly thorough when I removed Chiyoh’s bullet, so I can say with some confidence that you’ll likely regain full function and range of motion. Although physical therapy will certainly be necessary, particularly given the previous injury to that shoulder.”

“That’s a hell of a relief,” Will sighed. “I would’ve been pissed if I’d lost function of my dominant hand. Definitely not looking forward to physical therapy, though,” Will huffed. He had likely given up on any rehabilitative efforts following his stab wound, but Hannibal would allow no such thing. 

“I promise I will do all I can to make the process as painless as possible, but together we will make sure that you regain full function.” He turned from the stove to give Will a determined look, his firm tone brooking no argument. Nothing would prevent him from ensuring that Will healed properly, not even the stubborn man himself.  

“Whatever you say, Doctor,” Will’s flirtatious tone and sparkling eyes made him smile as he turned to the stove to finish preparing the sauce for their pasta. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

“I have everything in hand, this being a relatively simple meal to prepare. We should be ready to eat in about ten minutes. I haven’t yet had the chance to seek out the linens for the dining room. If you’d like, you can track them down and set the table.” Hannibal hoped that Will appreciated the gesture, as he typically relished creating every aesthetic aspect of his meals, particularly dinners. “There’s no need for any elaborate setup, as tonight’s meal is a single course.”

The beatific smile Will gave him told him that he understood exactly what Hannibal was trying to say. They were in this life together now.

~ ~ ~

Dinner was pappardelle with veal and chanterelles in a black truffle butter sauce topped with pecorino toscano shavings. It was delicious, which wasn’t the least bit surprising, Hannibal’s voice a soothing rumble as he explained the history of this particular type of pasta and its popularity in this region.

Will still reeled every time he thought about Hannibal deferring to his request for a simple, hearty meal. Of course, the doctor had managed to turn it into a culinary masterpiece. It was one of the most amazing things Will had ever tasted. 

“I hate how much I’ve missed your cooking,” Will admitted after they’d begun eating in earnest. Hannibal’s face lit up, unabashedly preening at the praise.

“You need never miss it again, Will,” Hannibal promised, bright eyes sparkling in the candlelight. They looked so dark in this lighting. The varying shades of gold, green, honey, and mahogany blending together into a deep chocolate brown, always enticing, no matter their color. 

“Every day, forever, and all that?” Will asked, the memory of the most romantic sentiment anyone had ever directed at him still fresh in his mind. Hannibal’s adoring eyes lingered on Will, a near perfect match to his memory. 

“Precisely,” The doctor’s voice was a husky rumble that he felt down to his bones. 

“And what happens if I’m not able to live up to the murderous potential you’ve always seen in me?” As much as he loathed the idea of breaking their fragile peace so soon, this felt like something Will desperately needed answers to. Hannibal tilted his head, eyebrows drawn together in question. “You’ve spent a hell of a lot of time and effort trying to mold me into a certain kind of killer. What if I don’t end up meeting your expectations?” 

Will wasn’t truly all that worried about it, which was, in itself, quite worrying. He’d had plenty of time to come to terms with the existence of his own inner monster by this point, but it was still a bit disconcerting to consider the truth of it. He knew by now that all it would take was the right set of circumstances for him to finally set it free for good. Still, he needed to know Hannibal’s thoughts on this while he was allowing Will to openly read him. So far, all he could pick up from Hannibal was knowing amusement and a hint of exasperation.

“Do you truly believe that is what I was doing, Will?” The twinkle in the doctor’s eyes said that he didn’t think so. “Would it not be more accurate to say that I spent that time and effort helping you recognize the fact that you had so thoroughly caged and hidden your own true nature, encouraging you to liberate your inner darkness from the shackles of repression, regardless of the final form that darkness would take?”

Will chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you that. But are you really going to sit there and tell me that it doesn’t matter to you one way or another if I end up wanting to kill again?” He didn’t believe that for a second. 

“I don’t think wanting to kill is the issue for you, is it, Will?” Hannibal  gave him a smug, knowing smile, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“No…it’s not,” Will admitted with a sigh. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I want to let myself fulfill that desire. You wouldn’t be disappointed if I didn’t end up bloodying my hands once again?” He wanted Hannibal to admit exactly what it was he wanted for them. He took a bite of his pasta, chewing slowly as he stared the doctor down, watching him sort through and discard responses, searching for what he believed to be the right one. Finally he inhaled sharply and leaned toward Will intently.

“I will acknowledge that one of my greatest desires is to share in the savage pleasure of the hunt with you, to be by your side as we take down your chosen prey. I would indeed be disappointed if I never got to experience you covered in blood, delighting in your glorious wrath.” The picture Hannibal was painting made Will’s breaths come faster, his imagination providing vivid flashes of the two of them reveling in a shared hunt. “That being said, what I want most for you is to find happiness and acceptance in every aspect of yourself, denying yourself nothing, reveling in all that brings you joy. We both know that violence and murder fall into that category. However, even if you never deign to indulge in taking a life alongside me, I will be content.”

Will searched Hannibal’s eyes for any hint of a lie, turned his words over to search for any form of obfuscation, but found only sincerity. 

“In fact,” something mischievous glinted in Hannibal’s eyes as he continued, “should you prefer to direct my hands as an extension of your own, wielding me as you would a weapon to experience the thrill vicariously, I would be amenable.”

Will swallowed thickly. “You’d really place a collar around your neck and hand me the leash? I have a hard time believing you’d give up—wait!” Will exclaimed, recalling suddenly Hannibal’s previous word choice. “You said, ‘your chosen prey.’” Will regarded Hannibal with narrow-eyed suspicion. The man was always as precise as the devil with his wording. “Are you saying that one of your greatest desires is for me to choose the prey for us to hunt?” Hannibal’s answering smile was wolfish, lighting up his whole face in a way he’d never seen before.

“That is precisely what I’m saying, dear Will. There’s no one better equipped to render such judgment. I would happily hunt exclusively those chosen by you, Will. While I would prefer to do so alongside you, to act on your behalf would be the next best thing.” Hannibal smirked as he gathered up his next bite, eyes sparkling with mirth, watching Will process his words.

Will couldn't believe what he was hearing. The most powerful, dangerous predator he’d ever known was offering to hand a huge portion of his autonomy over to him, and he was doing so gleefully. The immensity of the power Hannibal was presenting to him was a heady prospect. He had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Throughout all of Will’s mental deliberations, the doctor simply watched him, patiently allowing him the opportunity to process. 

“Alright then, Doctor,” Will agreed. Hannibal’s willingness to cede control was certainly a step in the right direction to finally balance the scales of power between them. While Will would’ve preferred to claim the power of his own accord, he could acknowledge that Hannibal’s willing offer of submission was extremely compelling, just as he could see and appreciate the effort he was making. He was also quite curious to see how this experiment ended up playing out, and whether or not the doctor would truly be able to stick to it. “If that’s what you really want, then from this point on, you only hunt who I tell you to. As for whether or not I’ll join you, I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“I have only one caveat.” Hannibal’s amusement died down a bit, making way for solemn determination. “Anyone who threatens either of our safety or freedom must be fair game. I will not risk losing you under any circumstances.” Hannibal’s eyes flashed with protective fire, warming Will down to his toes. 

“Agreed.” Will raised his glass in salute, sealing their agreement with a kiss of crystal. They eyed each other across the table hungrily, savoring their newfound understanding, the air between them burning with a familiar heat that blazed during every meal the two of them had shared back in Baltimore before everything went to hell. He hummed happily, taking his next bite slowly as he held his monster’s gaze. 

Hannibal always seemed to savor Will’s responses to his meals every bit as much as he did the food itself, if not more. Apparently, the act of providing for and nourishing Will was still pleasing to the doctor even when none of the ingredients were human-based.

“Be honest,” Will couldn’t resist teasing Hannibal a little, especially since they had yet to address that particular elephant in the room. “How much does it annoy you that our first meal together in this new life doesn’t contain your signature ingredient?” He made sure to let his amusement shine brightly, so that Hannibal would understand there was no judgment or negativity in his words.

Hannibal just chuckled and shook his head. “Not as much as you likely imagine. Sharing a meal with you prepared by my own hands is always important to me, regardless of the provenance of the protein.” He paused briefly, adjusting his knife ever so slightly in what Will recognized as a nervous gesture. “You don’t seem particularly concerned by the prospect.”

“I’m not,” Will shrugged. “I don’t think I ever really was, to be perfectly honest.” Hannibal tilted his head in that gesture of hungry curiosity he had whenever he was given fresh insight into Will’s mind. Will sighed, trying to organize his thoughts on the matter. “It may not ever be something that’s important to me in the way that it is to you, but after partaking of one of my own conquests…” his voice trailed off as he drifted back to the memory of devouring Randall Tier. “Let’s just say that, after that, I could certainly see the appeal.” 

Will knew that this would be a touchy subject, and there was definitely indignation warring with the awe, joy, and hope in Hannibal’s expression. But it was important that they addressed this particular issue. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for Hannibal to think that he was bothered by it, or worse, wanted him to stop. 

“I take it, then, that it was the feral Mr. Tier we partook of that night.” Hannibal’s voice was dry, but his expression was still open. He was willing to discuss this without giving in to anger, which Will appreciated. “I’ve often wondered what Uncle Jack had to say about that particular choice.”

“You’re right, it was Randall, but Jack didn’t know anything about it.” Will sighed, rubbing his hand down his face in frustration. He was going to have to get all of this out in the open, it seemed. He couldn’t even be mad about it, since he was the one who broached the subject. “The fact is, I lied to Jack so much more than I ever lied to you. He didn’t know anything about what happened with Randall until after I finished displaying him, and he was furious with me when I told him. It was only his single-minded determination to catch you and his guilt over falsely accusing me that kept him from arresting me on the spot.”

“I will admit, I’ve been quite curious to know how much of what we shared back then was a farce.” Hannibal replied, his face taking on a haunted appearance. “When I smelled Freddie Lounds on you that evening in my office, we were in the middle of burning my patient notes, discussing my memory palace. You had just asked me if I could be happy living there, should I ever be apprehended. From that moment on, all I could see was your betrayal.” 

“Jesus,” Will flinched, imagining just how terrible a blow that must have been, particularly given the timing of the revelation. “I can’t believe you didn’t kill me right then.” Will wasn’t entirely certain he would’ve been able to hold back from doing so, had the circumstances been reversed. Hell, when they were basically reversed, Will very likely would’ve killed him in the Hobbs’ kitchen if Jack hadn’t intervened. He was glad they’d finished their dinner. This subject turn would’ve been enough to completely ruin his appetite otherwise. 

“I very nearly did,” Hannibal said quietly. “I contemplated it repeatedly over the next48 hours. Every time I thought I had steeled myself to do so, my resolve would waver. When I found myself asking you to leave with me during our last supper, I realized killing you was impossible. As badly as you’d managed to hurt me, I knew that a world without you would be inconceivable.” Will watched through watery eyes as a tear streamed down Hannibal’s cheek, guilt twisting his heart painfully. His eyes were glazed over, caught in the memory of that night. 

“For what it’s worth,” Will’s voice was rough with emotion, “I will always regret not recognizing your offer for what it was and taking you up on it.” Hannibal’s eyes snapped back to the present as he wiped the tears from his cheeks with his napkin, elegant even in his grief.

“I suppose I should have been more direct with you. Although I’m still struggling to understand why you didn’t agree to leave with me that night, if that was what you’d truly wanted. Had you simply not yet made up your mind?” 

Will rubbed the back of his neck, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling, as if he could find the strength to speak such hard truths hidden within the textured patterns. 

“That’s what I told myself at the time,” he began hesitantly. Knowing there was no point hiding the truth any longer, he took a deep breath, finally ready to acknowledge one of the things he’d struggled with most about who he really was. “There was a moment, in the hospital, where I let myself fantasize about my ideal world. What I wished would’ve happened. I expected my mind to take me back to our last supper, where I would take you up on your offer.  

“Instead, I fantasized about what we’d planned for the following night. I was sitting across from you, Jack at the head of the table - the guest of honor. You and I looked at each other, not even needing a signal.”  Hannibal’s expression was rapt. The house could collapse around them and he wasn't sure the doctor would even notice. Will might not either, for that matter. “I grabbed one of his arms in the same moment that you grabbed the other, then you brought your blade across Jack’s throat, arterial spray arcing across the beautifully laid table before us.” 

The silence in the room was deafening, Will’s last words seemed to echo in the stillness. Hannibal was looking at him as though he was gazing upon the face of God; the level of reverence was almost unnerving. 

“Will.” The word was little more than a breathy sigh. 

“It wasn’t even that I really wanted Jack dead, exactly.” The need to defend himself was clawing at his throat. 

“I understand, Will. You needed him to know. You needed to thoroughly burn your bridges behind you, forever eliminating the possibility of falling victim to the temptation of turning back to your old life.” Will nodded gratefully. Of course Hannibal understood. No one in the world could possibly understand Will the way he did. The realization that he could finally enjoy that understanding, could revel in it, wrapped around him like the softest, warmest blanket. 

“There’s no temptation anymore, though,” Will said softly. It was suddenly immensely important that Hannibal understood this. “That life is over. Even if Jack somehow managed to tear me away, kicking and screaming, I’d still find my way back to you.” 

Hannibal’s eyes were shining with tears as he pushed back his chair to stand. Will mirrored him, rising from his own seat to meet him halfway, as equals should, until they were so close he could feel Hannibal’s breath on his face, smelling of earthy truffles and expensive wine. 

Will leaned into his hand when the doctor reached out to cup his cheek, his name reverently whispered between them before Hannibal’s lips met his own. Electricity coursed through Will’s system the moment their lips touched. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal, pulling him in closer as their mouths slotted together more firmly. He felt Hannibal’s arm grip his waist like a vice. 

With the first slide of Will’s tongue into his mouth, his other half let out a wounded sound that was very nearly a whimper, igniting Will’s blood until he found himself pushing the doctor against the nearest wall and devouring him, plundering Hannibal’s mouth as if the secrets of the universe could be found there. 

This is what I crossed an ocean for, Will thought. Hannibal gave every bit as good as he got, licking into Will’s mouth, nipping and sucking his lower lip as Will did the same to the perpetual pout of the doctor’s plush upper lip. He wasn’t at all surprised that it was, by far, the greatest kiss of his life. It took every ounce of his self control not to grind his rapidly filling cock against Hannibal’s thigh. He didn’t want to rush this. They had all the time in the world now. 

They seemed to come to that realization simultaneously, their minds connected more deeply than ever before. They pulled away from one another at the same moment, resting their foreheads together as they fought to catch their breath. Hannibal’s hand had been continuously winding into his hair from the moment their lips met, and his nails now gently scraped along Will’s scalp, sending shivers down his spine. 

“You are exquisite, Will,” his other half murmured while peppering kisses along his cheek, up his temple, across his forehead. Will just smiled and hummed, resting his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. 

“Come on, Doc. We need to clean up these dishes.” Hannibal reluctantly released him with a sigh. 

“I’ll take care of the dishes, amato.” Will blushed at the endearment, not knowing what it meant but feeling the sentiment all the same. Still, he wasn’t about to let himself be babied. 

“I’m perfectly capable of helping,” he sniped as he reached out for his plate. Belatedly, he realized that he should have used his left hand. The pain in his shoulder had been steadily increasing, flaring sharply when he picked up the plate. 

Of course, this just encouraged the smug bastard that he happened to love to tsk at him, taking the plate from his grasp. 

“As I was saying, my stubborn boy,” Hannibal purred, sidling up beside him and kissing his temple, “I will take care of the dishes. It’s no trouble. Go make yourself comfortable, and I’ll join you momentarily.”

Will huffed but didn’t protest any further, making his way to the living room feeling as though he was walking on air. He was tempted to light a fire, but between his own exhaustion and Hannibal’s, noticeable only in the dark circles under the man’s eyes and the way his voice had become gruffer throughout the day, Will didn’t think they’d be awake long enough to enjoy it. 

He’d hardly even had a chance to sit down before Hannibal appeared with a glass of water in one hand and two small pink pills in the other. “A moderate dose of pain medication to help you sleep.” Hannibal explained before dropping the pills into his waiting hand and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Will recognized the 5mg oxycodone pills from his surgical recovery, and hoped that he fell asleep before the chatty stage hit him. While it would undoubtedly please Hannibal to no end to hear him blabber on incessantly, he was not in the mood to deal with the embarrassment after the meds wore off. 

~~~

Hannibal was greeted with the enchanting sight of a drowsy Will Graham curled up in the corner of the sofa, looking as though he was on the verge of nodding off. Before he could suggest heading to bed, a prospect that he was greatly looking forward to, the lovely fae creature he adored reached out, taking his hand and pulling Hannibal down next to him. Will immediately shifted to curl into his side as he settled his arm around his beloved’s shoulders. 

“Perhaps instead of getting too comfortable here, we should head to bed.” He kissed the crown of Will’s head, running his fingers through his lovely, soft curls. The novelty of finally being free to do so was positively enthralling. 

“Not sure I wanna move yet.” To the doctor’s immense delight, it appeared that Will’s slight southern twang revealed itself anytime he was very tired, not only when he was drugged into a near stupor. Hannibal hummed in pleasure, rubbing his lips back and forth against the top of Will’s head, continually breathing in his delectable scent. 

“Listen to you purr!” The drowsy angel in his arms laughed in delight. 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Hannibal protested, but continued to hum near Will’s ear since it seemed to please him so much. 

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Will crooned into his chest.

He could live another 50 years, each day spent holding a teasing Will in his arms, and it would not be enough to sate him. For the first time since his childhood, Hannibal felt the urge to thank whatever benevolent deity had thrust this perfect creature into his path. He was convinced he’d never known true happiness before this evening. Even kissing Will, which was undoubtedly the greatest moment of his life up until Hannibal sat down in this spot, did not outshine this wondrous feeling of comforting intimacy, of home. The perfection of the moment was suddenly interrupted as he felt Will tense ever so slightly in his arms. 

“Is everything alright, darling?” The rosy blush and scent of warm pleasure in response to the endearment thrilled him. Will’s suddenly pulling away and turning to face him did not. He felt bereft without his weight against his chest, but Will did not appear troubled, only contemplative. 

“So, you’re in love with me,” Will stated matter-of-factly, apropos of nothing. His ocean eyes searched Hannibal’s face for some response, but all he had to offer was confusion. Will wasn't typically one to state the obvious for no apparent reason.

“Are you pausing for dramatic effect, Will, or is that the extent of your point?” Hannibal was genuinely perplexed as to the direction of this conversation. When Will burst into hysterical laughter, the doctor began to suspect that perhaps his beloved experienced stronger cognitive side effects from opiates than most. He reached out to grasp the mercurial man’s face in his hands, but Will waved him away, his laughter settling into amused chuckles.

“Oh, hell!” Will rubbed his face with both hands, shaking his head. “It probably shoulda been obvious to me long before today.”

Hannibal blinked owlishly. “Will, are you telling me that you only just realized this today?” Hannibal was incredulous as Will nodded with a sheepish expression. Of all the many occasions Will had taken him by surprise, this was by far the most bewildering. “Forgive me, my darling, but how is that possible? You are hyper-empathic with powers of perception and understanding that border on preternatural, and yet you were. Unable to discern the fact that I was in love with you?” It was so outrageous that he had to laugh, causing Will to shove him away and move to get up from the couch, which would not do. 

He grasped his mate around his waist, pulling him back against his side. Will didn’t fight him, opting instead to hide his scarlet face in Hannibal’s chest in embarrassment. He supposed it made a certain amount of sense, given Will’s particular skill of blinding himself to that which he did not wish to see. 

“I understand you, my poor, conflicted beloved.” Hannibal crooned, rubbing soothing circles into his love’s back. “I imagine the very idea of acknowledging any aspect of my better nature whilst you struggled so valiantly to hold on to your resentment of me was very nearly impossible for you.” Will relaxed in his arms, finally showing his face again. Hannibal grasped his chin, pulling his face up to press a reassuring kiss to his soft lips. 

“That’s exactly it, yeah,” Will replied with a sigh when Hannibal released his mouth. “You know me well.”

“Of course I do. My love for you is what made me fully aware of all that you are, and all that you could be.” Will turned toward him with wide eyes. “I would like to believe that through my love for you, you’ve been able to better see yourself and your potential. Perhaps now that I’m finally free to fully express my love, you’ll find it safe and comfortable enough to live as you truly are, to become all that you were once afraid to be.”

His words seemed to cause Will some measure of anxiety. “Have I made you uncomfortable, Will?” He shook his head, but the anxious scent and expression did not fade. 

“It’s not you. I mean, it is, but it’s more myself that’s making me uncomfortable. I’m guessing I never told you about that dream, right?” Hannibal was now certain that the opioids were at least partially responsible for this bewildering discussion. 

“What dream are you referring to?”

“So that’s a no. Jesus fucking Christ!” Will grabbed a handful of his own curls and pulled, as if he was trying to encourage more blood flow to his brain. He huffed a humorless laugh. “I’ve had some surprising moments of revelation with my particular skill set, even what some people might call visions. But this is something else entirely.” 

“Amato, I’m afraid I’m not following you.” Hannibal’s confusion was evident in his voice. Will took a deep breath and met his eyes. 

“‘No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love, we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.’” It was a paraphrase of the sentiment that he had just expressed to Will, but he recited the words as if he were quoting someone else. Hannibal could only tilt his head in question. 

“You said those words to me in a dream nearly a year ago.” That was certainly not what he had expected. It was absolutely fascinating. He pulled Will back into his arms, wanting to reassure him before he could spiral into thinking something was wrong with his brain. 

“That, dear Will, is simply further evidence that both your mind and our inexplicable connection are singularly extraordinary.” He nuzzled against Will’s forehead until his mate relaxed into his arms. “I long for the day you shed the last vestiges of fear of your own brilliance.”

“I’m not sure that’ll ever happen.” Now that the anxiety was fading, drowsiness was once again overtaking him. 

“It will, cuore mio. You’ve already made great strides in overcoming your fears. Over time, you will come to appreciate all the wonders of your mind.” With one last kiss to his forehead, Hannibal stood up and pulled Will to his feet with him. “For now, however, we both need sleep. Our bodies have quite a bit of healing to do, and I, for one, have been up for nearly thirty-six hours.”

The experience of entering their bedroom for the first time with Will by his side bordered on surreal. Hannibal spent so long hoping for this moment that he found himself faced with the entirely novel feeling of uncertainty after Will staggered into the bathroom, leaving him to his nagging thoughts. Should he give Will privacy to change clothes? Should he hide himself from Will as he did so himself? Would Will allow him to hold him while they slept as he had on the sofa, or would he want space? 

Will snapped him out of his spiral of doubt by walking out of the bedroom in nothing but his boxers, sending every thought flying from his mind as he traced the lines of Will’s torso, avoiding focusing too heavily on the scar bisecting his abdomen.

Will gave him a sly grin and a wink as he sauntered over to their bureau for a t-shirt. He had clearly taken the time to explore earlier, knowing which drawer contained his own items. Hannibal relied heavily on his exhaustion to convince him to walk to the bathroom for his bedtime routine instead of mauling the stunning incubus stalking toward their bed. 

He finally joined Will after giving his beloved a show of his own, stripping down to his briefs while Will’s eyes roamed his nearly nude form before sliding his pajama pants on. He checked Will’s shoulder dressing to confirm it would be fine until morning, letting his fingers linger over his throat and collarbone as he did so. 

By the time he slid between the silken sheets, Will’s eyes were smoldering with desire. Still, he kept to his side of the bed, following Will’s lead for their sleep configuration. 

“Shoulda known you’d be a fuckin’ tease.”  Will’s voice was gravelly with fatigue and lust. 

“Forgive me, my dear,” he murmured teasingly, reaching out to stroke his fingers through Will’s silky hair. “Perhaps I should have changed in the bathroom instead, so as not to tempt you. I’m certain your seductive saunter through the room in your tiny boxers was in no way meant to inflame my own passions, after all.” 

Will inched closer, which was as good as an invitation for Hannibal to close the distance between them, sliding up close enough to pull him into a gentle kiss, not wanting to start anything he was too exhausted to finish. Will hummed his pleasure into his mouth before laying his head on Hannibal’s chest. 

“I’m gonna have to be more careful, if you’re havin’ such a hard time resistin’ me.” Hannibal was impressed with his ability to continue taunting him, even while on the verge of sleep. It seemed to come naturally to the little menace. He gave his curls a gentle admonishing tug. 

“I’m not certain you want to pit my resistance your own, beloved. I am quite well known for my ability to control myself.” 

“Not when it comes to me, you’re not, tiger.” Hannibal chuckled at the ridiculous endearment, twining their fingers together. “I bet you cave before I do.” 

“Define ‘cave.’” 

“You’ll be the one to ask for sex before me.” Will sounded supremely confident, but Hannibal had been the master of his every desire and emotional response for decades, recent blips in said control notwithstanding.

“Given that I was ready and willing to spend a lifetime by your side without so much as a kiss from you, I can’t help but feel you’re a bit overconfident,” Hannibal murmured into Will’s ear. “What are the stakes of this little wager of yours?” 

“Hmmm,” Wil took a moment to consider his options. “If you win, I’ll let you dress me up from skin to outerwear and take me to whatever fancy outing tickles your fancy. If I win, you’ll come fishing with me. Waders and all.” The supremely low stakes confirmed for him that what Will really wanted was simply to win.

Hannibal tilted Will’s face up to meet his eyes. “You have yourself a bet, dear Will.” He sealed their wager with a slow, deep kiss, a lazy slide of lips and tongues. “I look forward to introducing you to the arts of Livorno.” He smiled, rubbing his nose against Will’s. “Sleep well, beloved. ” 

Chapter Text

Living with Hannibal in their seaside villa was far simpler and more enjoyable than Will had anticipated. They spent their time together wrapped up in the gentle intimacy of profound understanding and overwhelming love, even though they both knew it was a bubble of sweet domesticity that would inevitably bust at some point when their past reared its ugly head. Every aspect of his being seemed to relish their new arrangement. Even his traitorous mind appeared to have stopped fighting against him, as he hadn’t awakened from a nightmare once since they arrived. With each day that passed, he found himself feeling more and more confident, comfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life.   

He’d awakened that first morning after a miraculous night of uninterrupted sleep to his new favorite sound: Hannibal purring like a big cat as he placed gentle kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. His very own pet tiger was plastered against his back, arm wrapped around his waist, pressing his hand against his heart. Will turned in the doctor’s arms to be greeted with a fervent kiss. His injured shoulder protested the position, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

“Mmm, mornin’” Will twined his fingers into his lover’s sleep-tousled hair, already deeply regretting the foolish wager his half-asleep mind had conjured up with such confidence. As they shared lazy kisses, Hannibal seemed to sense his train of thought and asked him if he’d changed his mind. He’d seriously considered conceding right then, given the way electricity shot down his spine from even the gentlest kisses. 

“You’re more than welcome to blame it on the pain medication if you wish, my dear,” the doctor purred into his ear as his big, warm hand stroked up and down his back. The fact that that hand was large enough to span the entirety of the small of his back made his brain turn to static for several moments. 

But he was far too stubborn to cave so easily, especially after being so cocksure about it when he proposed the bet, so he shut that idea down, albeit reluctantly. 

Hannibal had just chuckled and murmured “As you wish,” as though he’d expected Will’s obstinacy before gracefully rolling out of bed, pulling Will with him to change the dressing on his shoulder. As distractions went, it was an effective one, helping him shove his lustful thoughts to the back of his mind. 

They ended up spending most of their first days together pursuing various relaxing pastimes as their wounds healed and their connection grew. Hours were spent sipping wine or whiskey as they delved deep into philosophical discussions about the universe, murder, morality, religion, or any other topic that came to mind. Hannibal would play the harpsichord in the study or the piano in the living room while Will read or just watched him while he lounged on one of the sofas or sprawled in one of the plush armchairs that would swallow him whole and often coaxed him to curl up and take a nap.

Hannibal had purchased fly tying equipment for him, a mix of materials made for both saltwater and freshwater fishing. The two of them would spend quiet afternoons in the study, Hannibal sketching or writing as Will created, as Hannibal called them, tiny functional works of art. The silence between them was never awkward, more akin to a favored blanket – comforting and familiar. 

One afternoon, Will awakened from one of his catnaps to Chiyoh finally making an appearance. Hannibal had assured him that she wouldn’t visit until she’d made up her mind on how she wanted to go about confronting him. As was too often the case, it appeared the doctor was right. 

Chiyoh greeted Hannibal with the cautious warmth of long-distance family members, but the doctor’s affection for her was obvious as he pulled her into a brief, gentle hug. Will was granted a chilly, “Good afternoon,” before she focused all her attention back on Hannibal. Not wanting to intrude, he turned to give them their privacy, but Hannibal stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Would you mind terribly if Will remained,” he asked Chiyoh. “He is family as well.”

“If you are certain,” Chiyoh was displeased but resigned as he moved to the sofa to sit next to Hannibal. “It would seem that nakama is no longer accurate to describe your relationship, if it ever was.” She looked at Will accusingly, as though he had deliberately withheld the romantic aspect of their relationship. Perhaps he had, if he was being honest with himself.

“We will always be nakama,” Hannibal said, drawing her attention back to himself, “even if the word does not encompass all that we are to one another. Unmei no hito would probably be the most accurate description. Kare o aishitemasu.” Hannibal spoke the unfamiliar words so fervently that Will had to fight back a blush, despite not knowing their meaning.  Chiyoh seemed equally moved by them, eyebrows lifting in surprise, bowing her head in recognition of whatever point Hannibal had just made. Will tucked the words away into his memory to inquire about later. It was clear that Hannibal was trying to drive home the importance of their relationship to her. Apparently it was enough, as she seemed to relax, even giving Will a small smile.

“Have you told your Hannibal of your exploits while visiting his family home?” Chiyoh asked. There was a lingering bitterness under the surface of her words, but she didn’t seem as angry about what he’d done to her as she had been on the train. She turned to the doctor and said with her Mona Lisa smile, “You would have been proud of him, I am sure.”

Hannibal turned toward him, taking his hand. “I often am,” he murmured as he brushed a curl away from Will’s forehead. “I would love to hear of these exploits of yours, beloved.”

“Another time, maybe,” Will grumbled anxiously. He wasn’t entirely certain what Hannibal would think of what he’d done with Mischa’s killer. 

“As you wish, Will,” Hannibal conceded easily before returning his attention to Chiyoh. “I’m pleased that you have finally freed yourself, Chiyoh. Will you go home now? Can you go home?” 

“No more than you can,” Chiyoh replied. She seemed to steel herself before continuing, “Did you eat her, Hannibal?’

Hannibal tensed, leaning further into Will’s side as if unconsciously seeking his warmth. Will was afraid to move, uncertain how such a direct attack from Chiyoh would be received by his other half. He risked a glance at his face, surprised to see no anger, only deep sadness.

“Yes,” he answered so quietly it was barely audible. “But I did not kill her,” Hannibal clarified vehemently. Chiyoh closed her eyes and nodded, visibly relieved. 

Will had suspected this was the case, knowing that the story he’d told Chiyoh when they were young had not been the entire truth. It made Will’s heart ache to imagine a young Hannibal, overcome with grief after losing the last of his family, the most important person in his life, desperate to find some way to keep a part of her with him forever. Will reached out, rubbing comforting circles into Hannibal’s back, trying to keep him grounded. Hannibal leaned into his touch just enough to let him know it was welcome. 

“Are you certain it is wise to remain so close to Florence, Hannibal?” Chiyoh asked. “There are a number of people hunting you.” Will had asked Hannibal the same question, but the doctor was confident that all those in pursuit would assume that they’d fled the country. He repeated his assertions to Chiyoh, but she was even less convinced than Will had been.

“The greed of those in La Questura will prevent them from making any public statements, as they will be unable to explain away their decision to hunt me down quietly and privately instead of instigating a full-scale manhunt.” Hannibal’s confidence in his judgment was unwavering. “There is a small chance that those aware of the bounty will have friends in other cities keeping an eye out for me, but given the poor quality photographs they are using, I’m relatively certain that the risk is quite minimal, provided we avoid any confrontation with the police. In any case, I don’t believe we will remain here much longer.”

Chiyoh nodded, appearing to accept his reasoning. “The American man you left behind seems to have given up.” Chiyoh said, “I returned to Florence after following you here. He spent a few more days in the city, meeting occasionally with the woman who called herself your psychiatrist, before flying out last night. I did not follow him closely enough to determine where he was headed.” 

At the mention of Bedelia, Will immediately perked up, shifting forward eagerly. 

“Is his psychiatrist still in the city?” Will asked, venom coating his voice. He hadn't planned on interjecting into their conversation, but he couldn’t seem to help himself when there was a chance the woman was still so near. Chiyoh regarded him thoughtfully, likely guessing the reason for his interest.

“She is,” Chiyoh replied, further igniting Will’s intrigue. Perhaps he hadn't missed his chance. “However, she is under constant surveillance by members of the local police that discovered the American man you left behind.”  Will tried to keep the snarl from his face, unsure whether he succeeded. 

“It would seem they are using her as bait,” Hannibal interjected. Will had figured that out for himself, and was pretty pissed off about it. It would’ve been better if she was already gone, as even knowing they were watching over her, the temptation to head to Florence right then to end her miserable existence was overwhelming. The logical part of his mind acknowledged that it would be counterproductive for him to murder her right now, when they were supposed to have fled the country already.

Hannibal ran his fingers through Will’s hair, trying to soothe the snarling beast inside his chest as he slumped back into the sofa in disappointment.  

“I appreciate your diligence, Chiyoh,” Hannibal answered fondly, amusement coloring his voice that was undoubtedly the result of Will’s obvious jealousy. “It’s certainly a relief to know that Jack, at least, is no longer an imminent threat. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to keep an eye on the situation with Dr. Du Maurier?”

“I will continue to monitor her. I had planned to remain nearby until you moved on, in case you required my assistance, so it will not be an inconvenience.” Chiyoh’s ready acquiescence spoke to a deep devotion to Hannibal, which settled Will’s discomfort over her presence quite a bit. It felt good to know there was someone in their corner they could count on. 

“Stay for dinner, please,” Hannibal implored. Will could tell that he had missed this woman who was likely the closest thing he had to a sister after losing Mischa. “It has been far too long since I have had the pleasure of your company, dear girl.” Chiyoh merely nodded in agreement, giving Hannibal a smile several degrees warmer than any he’d seen from her yet. 

Will had to fight back a wave of possessiveness. While he was grateful for her loyalty and pleased that Hannibal was able to spend some time with family, there was no question that he would rather keep the man all to himself. He refused to allow his possessiveness to push him so far that he would try to deprive Hannibal of her company.

Chiyoh joined Hannibal in the kitchen to prepare dinner, and Will decided to bite back his jealousy to allow them some time alone together. He told his other half as much, giving him a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to enjoy the sunset, missing his dogs as he strolled through their yard. 

The three of them shared a pleasant meal together, Hannibal and Chiyoh trading stories of mischief from their youth. It was no surprise at all to Will that Hannibal had been a brilliant troublemaker, even as a teenager. 

By the time Chiyoh left, Will was itching to get his hands back on Hannibal, having restrained himself from being too physically affectionate while she was there. 

The two of them curled up together on the couch in what was becoming a favorite position for their conversations: Will pressed up against Hannibal’s side with his arm wrapped around the doctor’s stomach, Hannibal’s arm around his back, stroking through his hair or massaging his neck while his other hand gently gripped Will’s forearm or toyed with his fingers. 

“What was it that you told Chiyoh earlier? Something in Japanese,” Will asked quietly. 

“I referred to you as my unmei no hito, which directly translated means “person of destiny.”  It is the romantic form for soulmate. While there are no words in any language to properly describe what you mean to me, I would argue that soulmate is the most accurate. I also told her that I love you as profoundly as it is possible to love another person.” Hannibal punctuated his words with a deep, passionate kiss, pouring all of his love into Will’s mouth, leaving Will breathless. 

“While we are on the subject of what was discussed with Chiyoh, would you share the story of your ‘exploits’ with me now?” Hannibal’s eyes were nearly pleading, leaving Will no choice but to agree. 

He pulled away far enough to give himself a clear view of Hannibal’s face, wanting to see his reactions to everything Will told him. He described everything in minute detail, from the way he freed Chiyoh’s prisoner, predicting that the man would return for vengeance, to the tableau he’d created with the man’s body. Hannibal appeared entranced as Will detailed every aspect of the scene for him: the way he’d wrapped the body and crafted the wings, what it felt like as he bound and suspended the body from the ceiling, the way the firelight glinted off of the shards of glass. By the time he was finished, Hannibal’s eyes were shining, his expression one of pure awe. 

“Will,” Hannibal breathed his name with more reverence than Will had ever heard from him, which was saying something, “I never thought I would feel the desire to return to that place, yet the urge to see your creation with my own eyes is extraordinarily tempting. Were my imagination any less vivid than it is, I might even consider giving in to the desire. You created something so spectacularly beautiful from the vilest of creatures.”

Hannibal reached out to pull Will back into his arms, hugging him with a desperate strength that bordered on painful. Will reached up to stroke through his hair, soothing him with soft hands and gentle kisses to his jaw, up to his cheek, his temple. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to take a photo for you.” Will cursed himself for the lack of consideration, even if, at the time, he was still uncertain as to what he would do when he finally reunited with Hannibal. Right now, all he could think was how badly he wished he could show Hannibal what he’d done.

“Shhh, my love,” Hannibal whispered into his curls. “Your memory is so perfect that you were able to recreate the image for me in enough detail to rival a photograph. That is enough. I love you dearly for it. Chiyoh was right — I am extremely proud of you, Will.”

Will’s entire body lit up from within at the praise. He would hate how much he craved Hannibal’s approval if he didn’t know how badly the doctor craved his own in return. Turning in his arms, Will pulled him into a kiss, trying to convey his feelings without words. He hadn’t yet found the ability to tell Hannibal that he loved him, but he did his best to show it.

They spent the rest of the evening in each other’s arms, surrounded by the heat of their mutual desire, each teasing the other, hoping one would concede defeat and ask for more. Their stubborn natures won out yet again, and Will cursed his hard-headedness as he drifted off to sleep hornier than he’d ever been in his life. 

They always fell asleep touching in some way, and woke each morning coiled around one another in various configurations. Thanks to Will’s damnable wager, which he did indeed blame entirely on the pain meds in the privacy of his mind, there was a silent agreement in place to tactfully ignore one another’s morning wood, sportsmanlike conduct and all that. 

Sexual frustration aside, they were both enjoying basking in the low-grade arousal that continuously surrounded them, reveling in near-constant casually intimate touch and soft, gentle brushes of lips to cheeks and foreheads.

While Will relished allowing the heat between them to steadily rise until it reached a fever pitch, he had to admit that he’d bitten off more than he could chew by challenging Hannibal’s self control. The anticipation was intoxicating, but he’d been aching for more since waking that first morning to Hannibal’s lips on his neck. 

For the most part, he enjoyed the game, and he was certain Hannibal was loving every minute of it. They constantly pushed each other, trying to break one another’s sense of control and shove the other over the edge into urgency, teasing and tormenting one another’s senses until someone pulled away, breathless and aching, but neither willing to give in and ask for what they wanted. 

It infuriated Will that Hannibal was usually the one strong enough to pull back, always with a maddeningly smug grin no matter how aroused and undone Will knew he was. The man’s sense of control was ironclad, and Will was going out of his mind with lust. Still, he was confident he’d be able to break the doctor before much longer. Hannibal had been waiting for this for much longer than he had, after all.

Hannibal didn’t hesitate to fight dirty, traipsing around the house after his showers, droplets of water sliding down his beautiful bronze skin, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped ridiculously low around his hips. He always changed for bed right in Will’s eyeline, moving as if performing a particularly subtle strip tease. The bastard was so confident in his own beauty, and lacked even the smallest amount of self-consciousness about nudity. It was becoming extraordinarily difficult to avert his eyes every time he dropped his towel to pull on his inevitably tiny underwear.

Will came downstairs one day after his shower to the smell of something cooking that was decidedly not food. There were a few empty amber glass bottles with pump-top lids and several small plastic squeeze tubes, also empty, lined up on the counter next to a funnel and a large transfer syringe. 

“What the hell kind of science experiment are you working on?” He asked, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist to peer over his shoulder into the pot of goo he was stirring. 

Hannibal turned to catch his lips before murmuring, “Sexual lubricant,” directly into his mouth. Will nearly choked on his own saliva, glaring at his almost-lover’s pompous face. It seemed the evil son-of-a-bitch had decided to pull a particularly devious move in their game of sexy chicken. 

“Of course you’d make your own lube, you fussy bastard,” Will replied. 

Trying to make up some of the ground he’d just lost, he ran his nose up and down Hannibal’s neck, pausing occasionally to nip at his ear, until the man was leaning back into his chest, making that delicious purring sound that Will had developed an addiction to. 

“I usually don't. In fact it’s been a number of years since I last bothered with it.” Flipping off the burner, he turned in Will’s arms to face him, kissing him soundly. Will nearly forgot what they’d been talking about as Hannibal kissed, sucked, and nibbled his way down to his chin and up and down the side of his neck. 

“For you, my darling, only the best will do.” Hannibal’s gravelly voice made him shiver as he remembered what they were talking about. Then the wicked cannibal went in for the kill, nearly growling into Will’s ear, “If you recall, I once told you how careful I am about what I put into my body.” 

Will hadn’t gotten so hard, so fast since he was teenager, his powerful imagination supplying him with vivid images of Hannibal writhing under him, velvet heat clenching around his cock. When he surfaced from his pornographic visions, Hannibal was staring at him with that wide, wolfish smile that he was still getting used to, entirely too pleased with himself. Will wanted to punch him in the face almost as much as he wanted to bend him over the counter. 

“Was there something you wanted, cuore mio?” Hannibal’s eyes were ablaze with lust as he stroked up and down Will’s spine with one broad hand, caressing the nape of his neck with the other as he purred in Will’s ear, “I’m more than happy to grant your every desire, my Will. All you need to do is ask.” 

Will was practically trembling with want, so close to breaking down and dragging the delicious man in his arms to the nearest flat surface. But with the last remnants of his logical mind, he pulled himself away from the damnable embodiment of temptation, muttering, “I need a shower,” as he turned to stalk out of the kitchen to the sound of Hannibal’s laughter. 

“Didn’t you just take a shower, darling?” Hannibal called after him in an incongruously innocent tone. 

“Bite me!” 

“I’d be happy to, my love.” 

“Shut the hell up and finish cooking your damn goo!” Will was going to stab him. 

Before he jumped back into the shower to jerk off, he grinned as a wicked idea of his own occurred to him. Taking Hannibal’s ridiculously keen sense of smell into consideration, he leaned back against the wall, licked his hand, and wrapped his fist around his aching cock. It took an embarrassingly short time to reach the edge, jerking himself roughly to images of plunging inside Hannibal’s tight heat until he came with a groan, covering his stomach and chest with come. Instead of washing it off, he just gave himself a cursory cleanup with a damp washcloth. 

Sure enough, when he walked back into the kitchen, Hannibal’s nostrils flared, spinning around to pierce him with wild, lust-filled eyes. Will could practically taste victory as his monster stalked around the island toward him with all the dangerous grace of the stalking tiger he was. 

He gripped Will’s hair, pulling his head back roughly to nose at the open collar of his shirt, inhaling deeply. 

“Oh, how you tempt me, you delightfully wicked boy.” Hannibal’s voice was as husky with desire as he’d ever heard it. Will was sure he was about to break when he kissed him like all the world’s treasures could be found behind his teeth, fingers digging into his hip and shoulder so hard they were guaranteed to leave bruises. But as soon as Will wrapped a leg around his waist, Hannibal pulled back just far enough to pant into his mouth, his ever-changing irises nearly completely overtaken with black. 

“You very nearly had me there, you little heathen.” With a shaky breath, Hannibal pulled himself out of his embrace, much to Will’s immense irritation. He’d been so sure that would work. 

Even though throughout the rest of the day, Hannibal would frequently take deep breaths, eyes turning glassy and dark, he would always get himself back under control before letting himself touch Will. He’d have to be more creative! 

***

Hannibal was certain that his cunning lover had something particularly devious planned for that night. All throughout their dinner, Will eyed him with barely concealed excitement, forcing Hannibal to employ all of his considerable self-control to remain outwardly unaffected. Internally, however, he was an inferno of desire. Will was an incorrigible tease, pushing him to the very brink of his limits at every available opportunity. 

It was becoming increasingly challenging for him to recall why he’d decided to fight so hard to win this silly wager. Surely the blow to his pride at losing would pale significantly in comparison to the extraordinary ecstasy of finally making love to Will. The ever present scent of his beloved’s release perfuming the air around him all day had worn his resolve down to nothing. 

They’d spent a spectacular afternoon arm-in-arm, exploring the lesser known areas of the beautiful coastal city, before returning home to prepare dinner together. As Hannibal started in on the dishes, Will cast his line. 

“Would you like to draw me tonight?” Will inquired casually. Hannibal could sense the anticipation thrumming just under the surface of his lover’s relaxed façade. 

“I draw you every day, amato.” Hannibal had been using that particular endearment more often, as it seemed to be Will’s favorite. He always blushed a bit more and smiled ever-so-slightly wider than when he simply called him “beloved” in English. Hannibal spent a considerable amount of time working out all the various things that Will seemed to prefer, from the ingredients of their meals, to the ways Hannibal caressed, kissed, and nipped at his perfect skin. It was the most enjoyable study he’d ever undertaken. 

“I meant, would you like me to model for you?” Will replied teasingly. That caught Hannibal’s attention. He hadn’t yet asked Will to model, only drawing him as he saw him at various times and places throughout the day. 

“Of course I would, Will.” Hannibal’s eyes were soft with gratitude. There were few things that he would enjoy more than finally having Will pose for him. He found himself itching for a canvas and oil paints for the first time in many years, as he knew that graphite, or even pastels and colored pencils, would be insufficient in capturing the perfection of Will Graham. 

If this was Will’s plan to get Hannibal to concede their wager, he’d chosen poorly, as he’d been waiting nearly two years for this opportunity. 

“Why don’t you prepare a fire for us in the study, tesoro.” Hannibal said as he swiped the soapy sponge across the plate in his hand. “Find a comfortable position to sit or lay back, and I will join you as soon as I finish up here.”

Will stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. It never failed to thrill Hannibal when he did this, the heat of Will’s body plastered against his back combined with the sensation of Will’s lips brushing the base of his nape always sent shivers down his spine. 

“I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” Will drawled directly into his ear. His heart rate spiked at the mix of Louisiana twang and the novel endearment, as it was the first time Will had ever called him that, always either using his name, title, or the one sleepy “tiger” just before nodding off, which was likely the result of the opiates.

Before Will could pull away, he spun in his lover’s arms, heedless of his wet, soapy hands, and pulled him into a biting kiss, fingers digging into the muscle of his beloved’s back. Will gripped his hair and pulled just enough to sting, drawing a strangled groan from the depths of his being. When Will pulled back just enough to bite down on his upper lip, Hannibal attacked his delicious mouth with renewed vigor, very nearly lifting his lover into his arms to deposit him onto the closest flat surface. It was only Will’s filthy chuckle against his mouth that pulled him out of his near-frenzy.

Hannibal pushed Will away from him, panting as though he’d just run a mile with a dead body over his shoulder. His lover was grinning at him in knowing amusement, sea glass eyes sparkling deviously. Only his heavy breathing and dilated pupils gave away how significantly he was affected.

Perhaps Hannibal had miscalculated the efficacy of his lover’s plan to crush the last of his willpower to dust. Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly released his bruising grip on Will’s hips. 

“Off you go then, you sinful creature,” he murmured, his voice thick with frustrated lust. 

Hannibal calmed his raging arousal with some difficulty as he finished up the dishes, focusing his attention on the soothing, rhythmic sensation of moving the sponge over the china in the soapy water, allowing it to settle his frazzled composure.

He steeled himself for the sight potentially awaiting him in the study. He was almost certain that Will was going to be entirely nude, sprawled in some delectably wanton position that would invariably send the doctor’s arousal spiraling out of control if he was not careful. 

As he made his way up the stairs, pulled along by the hunger of his curiosity, excitement caused his heart rate to rise in a reaction only ever brought about by Will. He was determined to maintain his control, even if his beloved had decided to push past his endearing (and wholly unnecessary) self-consciousness to bare himself fully to Hannibal’s hungry gaze. 

The sight that awaited him was nearly enough to cause him to drop the brandy glasses he was carrying. It was so much worse than he had expected, in the most wonderful way. His Will had indeed decided to use this opportunity to shed his clothing in order to coax out Hannibal’s carnality. What was entirely unexpected was the way the delicious incubus made allowances for Hannibal’s more complex desires. He was wrapped up in a silk sheet of deep crimson that closely resembled the color of blood, the fabric arranged in a way that hinted at everything, but revealed little, perfectly toeing the line of eroticism and classically artistic design.  

“Cazzo,” the breathy curse fell from Hannibal’s lips without conscious intent, making Will grin triumphantly. 

“I do believe that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse, my dear Doctor,” Will purred in quiet delight. His lover’s eidetic memory and excess mirror neurons made him astonishingly adept at learning languages, shocking Hannibal with his skill during the Italian lessons he’d been giving him since they’d arrived at the villa. While curses were certainly not covered in Hannibal’s lessons, he was not at all surprised that his beloved had furthered his knowledge with independent study.  

Hannibal tried to find a coherent train of thought among the chaos of his mind as his eyes ravenously traveled across the expanse of the feast laid out before him. Will was sprawled against the far arm of the sofa in a pose appropriately reminiscent of the Barberini Faun, one bent leg hanging off the cushions, foot resting on the floor, the other leaned against the back of the sofa. One arm was thrown behind him, forearm draped around his head, framing his beautiful chocolate curls. The other was hidden under the sheet in a position suggesting that he may be touching himself under the thin red barrier. 

The bloody silk flowed in a river of crimson across his beloved’s body, striking the perfect balance between exposure and suggestion, triggering Hannibal’s imagination in ways that were far more arousing than his complete nudity would have been. The shimmering flow of fabric draped diagonally over Will’s torso, allowing only the slightest peek of Hannibal’s scar visible on the bared side of his abdomen, wrapped around his pelvis and upper thigh in a way that left the entirety of his right hip visible, proving his beloved’s nudity under the thin material, before weaving in between his legs suggestively, leaving the end pooled under his bare legs. The image before him gave the overall impression that the tantalizing creature was lying partially submerged in fresh blood. Hannibal had never been more thoroughly aroused in his life. 

He was very nearly panting, the roaring in his ears the only sound he’d heard for some time. Somewhere within the lust-crazed haze of his mind, he registered that Will was talking to him. 

“…I don’t really see the point of you continuing to fight against me, darlin’,” Will’s words finally registered in his consciousness. His lover’s voice was deeper than he could ever recall hearing it, giving Hannibal some solace that he was not the only one affected in this moment. “We both know that you’re the hedonist of the two of us. I’ve been used to going without for so long that I can keep this up for ages. You’re so accustomed to taking what you want, and what you want most is right here, ready and waiting for you. All you have to do is ask for it.” Will was practically purring by the end, his voice a siren’s song, demolishing the feeble remnants of Hannibal’s control. 

As Will's words registered, the last of his restraint vaporized. He realized that he’d been a fool for restraining himself for so long. Of course his Will had been accustomed to denying himself. He’d been repressing his own desires for so long, it must be like second nature to him. 

“You’re right, my love,” Hannibal agreed, stalking forward after placing the brandy glasses on the side table. “I concede.” Will perked up, lips parting slightly in surprise as his eyes lit up with triumphant excitement. He leaned down to grasp Will’s ankle, gently rubbing circles just above the arch of his foot. 

“Wait, really?” Will asked, barely able to hide his shock. 

“Really, my dear Will,” Hannibal purred in response, kneeling at Will’s feet as he leaned forward to press open-mouthed kisses to the inside of Will’s ankle, slowly kissing and licking his way up his inner calf to the sensitive skin of the inside of his knee, feeling a slow, deep shudder pass through his lover’s entire body. 

“I’m asking you, darling. Let me have you!” Hannibal barely recognized his own voice with the intense need infused in every syllable. 

“Oh, fuck yes!” Will lurched forward, yanking Hannibal on top of him with a death grip on his sweater, the stitching of the delicate merino cashmere blend ripping under his attack. 

Hannibal was more than happy to follow Will’s lead, claiming his mouth and finally pressing all of his weight on top of him, settling into the inviting space between his legs. Immediately, Will caged him in, all four limbs wrapping around him with the strength of a boa constrictor while sinuously rolling his hips up into Hannibal’s, making him gasp as their erections ground into one another. Will moaned into his mouth when he slid his hand down Will’s flank to grip his plentiful glutes, pulling his hips even more firmly against his own. 

“Oh, god, Hannibal! Fuck!” Will was shaking as their bodies effortlessly moved together in a harmonious rhythm, as if they had been doing this for years. Everything between them was always so perfectly natural now that they had finally accepted their intimate connection for what it truly was. Will’s fingers dug into Hannibal’s neck and shoulder so hard they were certain to bruise. Hannibal welcomed the damage to his capillaries, thrilled by the idea of Will’s marks on his body, however temporary they may be. 

When the need to breathe became overpowering, Hannibal pulled away from Will’s mouth to kiss and suck his way down his jaw to the gorgeous expanse of his throat, finally giving in to the urge to bite and suck marks into the soft, creamy skin of his neck. Will threw his head back, giving him more room to feast. The show of vulnerability was not lost on Hannibal, and he rewarded Will with a particularly lewd circular grind of his hips, rubbing their erections together and licking from his collarbone to his ear before gently nipping at the lobe, exhaling lightly against the shell, pulling the most delightful high pitched moan from his kiss-swollen mouth. 

“Too many clothes,” Will breathed into his neck, tugging his sweater over his head before dragging his fingers through his chest hair and pulling. The sting sent a frisson of pleasure down Hannibal’s spine. He pulled back further to remove the sheet his lover was wrapped in as Will unfastened his pants and pushed them over his hips. Lacking the patience to properly unwind the fabric from Will’s body, he gripped the top edge of the sheet and simply peeled it down the length of him as if it were a full-body stocking before diving down to attack Will’s neck with biting kisses, sucking more bruises into the delicate skin. 

“Will,” he groaned into his beloved’s throat as Will wrapped his legs around his now bare waist, the expanse of skin-to-skin contact so exhilarating he could already feel the pooling of ecstasy low in his abdomen and the base of his spine. He wrapped one arm under Will’s back to grip his shoulder, the other buried into the silky chocolate curls he loved so much.

”Ah! Han—FUCK!” Will was always so exquisitely responsive to his touch, but now it was as if his every nerve was exposed, his entire form quivering and jerking as though he were incapable of holding so much pleasure within the bounds of his body. 

“‘M not gonna last. So close!” Hannibal had already surmised as much, able to smell how close his lover was to climax. Will’s voice was completely wrecked, the sound of it pushing Hannibal that much closer to the edge himself. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. His mouth began to water, desperate to finally taste his beloved properly. He stopped moving, pulling far enough away to ensure he would not accidentally send either of them over the edge.

“Will, let me taste you,” Hannibal implored, closer to begging than he’d ever been in his life. A deep shudder passed through Will’s body at his words. 

“Hell yes!” Will breathed, turning his head to bite at Hannibal’s forearm where he was holding himself up. “You’d better hurry, though, or you’re gonna miss your chance.” Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice. 

He immediately slid down the length of Will’s torso to lick a broad stripe up the underside of Will’s shaft, swirling his tongue around his glans before dipping into his slit to taste the nectar of his own personal deity at last. His flavor pulled a broken moan from the depths of Hannibal’s chest, the tangy, bitter, salty sweetness of him making Hannibal wild with lust. Will was writhing beneath him already, despite having only just taken his glans fully into his mouth while he tongued at his frenulum, pleased it had been left intact in his unfortunate circumcision. 

Hannibal reveled in Will’s reactions to his ministrations as he slowly lowered his mouth down over his length, relaxing his throat to swallow him down entirely. Will shouted, his torso arching off the sofa. Hannibal gripped his thighs, pulling his legs up onto his shoulders as he bobbed his head, alternating swirls of his tongue with massaging the underside of his shaft, paying close attention to every one of Will’s responses, focusing on the motions that made his body twitch and his moans increase in pitch and volume. 

One hand continued to grip Will’s outer thigh, massaging in time with the strokes of his mouth. With his other hand, he reached under Will’s balls to massage his perineum, gently at first, slowly increasing the pressure until Will had his head in a vice grip between his muscular thighs. As badly as he wanted to savor this, he could feel, smell, and taste exactly how close his lover was to the edge, and every twitch, moan, and shiver from Will brought Hannibal ever closer to his own climax. 

He sunk down to swallow Will’s length once more while pressing hard enough with his knuckle to thoroughly stimulate Will’s prostate. His beloved cried out a garbled shout of his name, gripping Hannibal’s hair so hard he felt a few strands rip from his scalp as he reached orgasm. He pulled back just far enough to be able to catch Will’s flavor on his tongue, sucking him hard through his climax. When Will’s entire body contracted around his head, Hannibal thrust his hips once against the cushion and exploded into ecstasy of his own, his orgasm so strong it blinded him momentarily, which was shocking given the lack of direct stimulation. 

Hannibal pressed his forehead into Will’s pelvis, holding his twitching length on his tongue while he panted through the aftershocks of such a powerful orgasm. Will’s fingers remained tightly clutching his hair as he gasped for breath. When the oversensitivity became too much, Will used his handhold to pull Hannibal off of him. Hannibal collapsed with his arms wrapped around Will’s lumbar spine, head resting in the cradle of his hip and thigh as he continued to inhale lungfuls of Will’s ambrosial scent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I think you just sucked my brain out through my dick.” A deeply satisfied chuckle was all Hannibal was able to muster in response. Will’s voice was clearly affected by how loudly he’d been moaning, the realization of which caused a shiver of desire that made the doctor’s own flagging erection twitch. “Come up here and let me take care of you,” Will purred with a gentle tug on his hair. 

“That’s not necessary, amato,” he replied, looking up at Will’s flushed, beautifully debauched looking face. “The taste of you was enough.” Will’s eyes widened when he brushed his leg against the wet spot in Hannibal’s briefs. 

“You came just from sucking me off?” He asked, clearly just as shocked as Hannibal had been by the phenomenon. Hannibal nodded with a sly smile. “That’s…ridiculously sexy. If I were 10 years younger that might be enough to get me ready for round two already.” Hannibal laughed, feeling lighter and more joyful than he could ever recall, before dropping his head back down to Will’s hip. 

When their respiration and heart rates finally began to regulate, Hannibal kissed his way back up Will’s body to his mouth, carefully bypassing his scar. They spent several minutes plastered together with sweat, trading lazy, sensual kisses until Will pulled back to look at him. 

“You’re gonna look so cute in waders,” Will teased with an accompanying nip to his jaw, before he pressed his nose against Hannibal’s cheek. “I still can’t believe you actually caved. I thought I’d need to put on more of a show to break you.” 

“Believe it or not, my love, it was your words more than the phenomenally tempting picture you presented me with that caused the last of my, admittedly significantly diminished, control to crumble.” Will pulled back to give him a decidedly incredulous look.

”You pointed out that you’ve been used to denying your urges for most of your life,” Hannibal continued, cupping Will’s cheek in one hand and holding his gaze. “You have denied your wants and needs for far too long. The blow to my pride at the loss of our little wager is nothing compared to ensuring that you no longer have to do such a thing. As long as it’s within my power, you will never again go without anything you desire.”

Will’s already rosy cheeks flushed a bright crimson, brows drawing together, eyes growing damp with tears. It broke Hannibal’s heart to consider the half-life Will had led until this point, always refusing to allow himself to have so many of the things he truly wanted, either believing he didn't deserve them or mired in guilt due to the restraints formed by societal expectations. Never again. 

“You deserve everything, Will.” He was determined to instill the truth of this into Will’s mind. “You are worthy of love, of passion, of joy. You deserve to live your life exactly the way you wish, to have everything you could ever wish for. I would tear through the very fabric of the universe to fulfill your every wish.” Will’s doe eyes were as wide as he’d ever seen them by the time he finished, tears now escaping down his temples. 

“Hannibal,” Will whispered, “I really don’t need all that.” A lifetime of asceticism prompted him to continue denying himself.  

“Whether you need it or not is inconsequential,” Hannibal assured him. “If you desire anything at all, as long as it is within my considerable power, I give you my word that you will have it.” Will reached up to slide his fingers back into his hair and pulled him down into a deep kiss before cradling the doctor’s head to his chest. His beloved carded his fingers through his hair with a tenderness that was nearly painful. Hannibal couldn’t remember a time when he felt more cherished, his own eyes filling with tears that he couldn’t stop from falling onto Will’s chest. 

“Thank you, Hannibal,” Will whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Hannibal knew he was not referring only to the promise he’d just made. 

“I’ll have you know, my darling,” he said playfully, giving them both a respite from the heavy emotional weight of the last few minutes, “that I would have joined you on any fishing expedition, waders and all, without the need for this wager.” 

Hannibal relished the rumbling sensation against his chest as Will responded with a laugh, “I figured as much. Just like I’ll still join you at the opera, or the theater, or whatever you choose for us, even though you most definitely lost.”  

“Will you still allow me to dress you ‘from skin to outerwear?’” 

“In case you haven’t noticed, darlin,” Will’s use of the endearment was as viscerally satisfying as the first time, “you already have. I haven’t even opened my bag since Chiyoh gave it back to me.” Hannibal certainly had noticed, but hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the fact, concerned that doing so would discourage Will from wearing exclusively what he’d provided. 

“I suppose that’s true,” Hannibal conceded. “However, I took great care to fill your wardrobe with clothing that I believed you would approve of. I make no such promises with regard to your formal wear.” He had long harbored a strong urge to see Will in a finely tailored, slim fit suit that properly showcased the classical perfection of his divine form. Hannibal was certain that would not fall under the umbrella of Will’s approval, if for no other reason than the expense.

Will turned Hannibal’s face up toward his own, gazing down at him with an affectionate twinkle in his eyes. “Go nuts, big guy,” he said, letting Hannibal know that his exploration of their closet hadn’t ventured very far. Hannibal had most certainly already done so. “I only ask that you don't put me in any bright colors.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Hannibal assured him, pleasantly surprised by the easy acquiescence. “You, my love, are made for dark, daring, and dangerous.” He leaned down to kiss his lover firmly before he could protest. From the eager, hungry way Will devoured his mouth in return, the doctor suspected the chances of such a protest had been much lower than expected.

As much as it pained him, Hannibal was growing quite uncomfortable with the sensation of cooling semen in his briefs, particularly since he hadn’t even managed to fully remove his pants before being overtaken by his passion. He groaned as he pulled away from the warmth of his lover’s body. Will clearly wasn't any more thrilled by the prospect than he was, as he immediately pulled Hannibal back down on top of himself. Laughing delightedly, Hannibal pressed appeasing kisses to his throat. 

“Forgive me, my Will,” he murmured into the curve of his lover’s neck. “Will you allow me to at least remove my soiled clothing and clean up a bit?” Will’s hesitation was disconcerting. He wouldn’t put it past his beloved to force him to remain in this state for as long as it pleased him. Fortunately, Will had mercy on him and loosened his hold around his neck. 

“Fine, but don’t leave me waiting too long.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised again as he rose to his feet, stretching languidly. He dropped a kiss to Will’s curls before retreating to clean himself up.

***

Will immediately missed his furry chested weighted blanket when he left to clean up. The fire was plenty warm enough in the small study to prevent any major chill, but it was far less comfortable to lounge naked without Hannibal’s warmth atop him. 

His post-orgasmic glow was still strong enough to keep him from being too bothered, hazy mind floating in the residual bliss of coming harder than he ever had in his life. Hannibal returned a few minutes later, gloriously naked and looking like a bronze god of Greek mythology. He looked at Will as though he was a miracle made flesh, adoration and devotion flowing off of him. Will extended a hand to his lover, pulling him back down between his spread thighs. 

“Mmm, much better,” Will sighed as Hannibal settled back into his place as a human blanket. The doctor immediately started his big cat routine like the tiger he was, rubbing his face all over Will’s chest while purring in contentment. Will could only chuckle fondly and run his fingers through his hair. Might as well enjoy the benefits of being able to pet a tiger, after all.

”I wholeheartedly agree, cuore mio,” Hannibal replied. One of his hands was wrapped around Will’s shoulder, the other idly stroking up and down his side. Will couldn't help but notice that throughout all of Hannibal’s many hours of caressing his body since they’d arrived, he’d never once even attempted to touch the scar he’d given him. He’d barely even looked at the damn thing, which made no sense. Because of Hannibal’s reluctance, Will had also refrained from touching the scars on the doctor’s wrists that he was responsible for, despite the fact that he very much wanted to. 

Will had thought that maybe Hannibal was waiting until they finally took this step, afraid that it would be too much for his self control to put his hands on it. Now, though, Will was beginning to suspect it was something else entirely. His curiosity won out over his desire to stay wrapped in a post-coital cocoon of softness. 

“Why are you avoiding touching it, Hannibal?” Will asked as gently as he could manage, knowing he would understand what he was referring to. The doctor immediately froze, something Will had come to recognize as Hannibal’s instinctual reaction to both surprise and emotional overwhelm.  He suspected that, in this case, it was a combination of the two.

“You can, you know,” Will assured him. “I’m frankly shocked that you’ve waited this long.” Will hadn't stopped stroking Hannibal’s hair, gently dragging his nails over his scalp. He ran his other hand up and down his other half’s muscular back, not unlike the way he would soothe a skittish animal. His offer made Hannibal exhale shakily, but he still made no move to touch it. “Does it really bother you that much?”

“Yes and no,” Hannibal said quietly, still not moving or looking at him. Finally, he sighed and propped himself up on his elbow, sliding over to the end of the cushion to reveal Will’s torso. He looked down at Will, conflict brewing in his dark hazel eyes. Will waited patiently for him to make his choice. After a heavily charged moment, Hannibal finally looked down at the scar. It was probably close to a full minute before he finally slid his hand down from where it had settled on Will’s chest. 

The moment his fingers touched the shiny, raised tissue, he inhaled sharply and Will felt his hand tremble. It was the same nearly imperceptible tremor he’d felt while they were fucking, and just like then, it amazed him. He would have bet a limb that those ridiculously steady surgeon’s hands hadn’t done that in decades.  

“Scars are memories embedded in flesh,” Hannibal whispered as he gently, reverently traced the line of the scar with his fingertips, following the same path his blade had traveled. Will failed to suppress a shiver at the sensation. “This memory is particularly abhorrent to me. I never revisit it of my own accord. Seeing and touching this makes those memories more difficult than usual to suppress.” While Will didn’t for one second doubt the truth of Hannibal’s words, he could feel his lover’s satisfaction swirling around with his grief. 

“Having said that,” Hannibal continued, his pleasure increasing as his grief began to subside, “there is an undeniable appeal to the knowledge of my permanent, visual claim upon your body.” His voice was still gruff from the blow job, but those words were spoken in such a dangerously low, gravelly tone that it made Will’s hairs stand on end. It was incredibly arousing, particularly since Hannibal’s fingers had started to press down more firmly as they traversed his abdomen over and over. 

Hannibal spent several minutes staring at his own fingers’ movements as if in a trance. Finally, he looked up at Will with pupils so wide, his eyes looked completely black. Will reached up to pull him into a fierce, biting kiss. Before they could get too carried away, Will pulled back to reach for Hannibal’s forearm, digging his nails into the long scar above his wrist.

“I’m certainly familiar with that sensation, even if these scars aren’t wholly mine.” He failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice, digging his nails in just a bit harder. 

“They most certainly are!” Hannibal protested adamantly. He appeared genuinely affronted by the insinuation that they belonged to anyone other than Will, making him smile and thawing some of the ice that had formed at the thought of Matthew Brown’s hands marking what belonged to him.

“While I appreciate the strength of the sentiment, you big sappy tiger, my hands did not create these marks.” It was only the fact that it happened at Will’s command that kept him from despising the scars. 

“We can certainly remedy that,” Hannibal murmured darkly. “Perhaps once we’re settled safely in our new home, you can make them your own in truth.” Will’s heart leapt at the suggestion, heat flooding his veins and boiling his blood. 

They moved as one, crashing their mouths together in a kiss that was mostly teeth and tongue, wrapping around one another like coiling snakes. Will pulled back just far enough to growl into Hannibal’s mouth, “I hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” before claiming the pout of his lover’s upper lip in his teeth. Before he could even register what was happening, Hannibal had leapt off the couch and swept him up into a bridal carry, striding purposefully down the hall to their bedroom.