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A week ago Will would have been thrilled to be opening his boyfriend’s front door with the key he’d been given, but now that boyfriend was probs a cannibalistic serial killer, which had decidedly taken the shine off the experience.
“Hannibal?” He calls out.
"In the kitchen," Hannibal replies. "I'm preparing trout. Do you prefer red wine or white?
Will does a quick mental scan to see which parts of a person could be make to taste like fish and doesn’t come up with any. He tries to put on his best ‘I’m not about to accuse you of murder’ face, and heads towards the kitchen.
“Hey!” He says, aiming to cheery and achieving manic.
“Erm red wine,” like blood Will. “WHITE WINE, JESUS,” he practically screams.
Hannibal stops chopping onions long enough to raise an eyebrow at the quivering brunette standing in the doorway. "William," he says gently. "Please, sit here at the counter. I will pour your wine momentarily."
Will knows that if he sits down he will have bought in to whatever happens next.
“I need to talk to you.” He says, feeling his heart beating in his chest.
"Of course, darling," Hannibal cooes, all concern and softness. He shuts the burner off, wipes his hands on the towel and steps forward a bit, into Will's space just enough to run a soothing hand down his arm. "I have some exciting news to share with you as well. But we will address yours first." He looks deep into Will's eyes, more than aware of exactly what Will is about to say. He wants to kiss him, just gently, to soothe his worry, but thinks better of it and offers a gentling smile instead.
Will is hyperventilating, desperate to take hold of Hannibal and shake him, screaming please don’t let it be true. He rests his head against Hannibal’s shoulder for a moment, breathing in the smell of him in case it’s the last time.
“I know,” he says resignedly. “I wish I didn’t know but I do.”
Hannibal would like to draw this out longer. To poke the caged fox just a little. Will's torment fills the air and gives his scent a spicy-sour tang. Hannibal draws him in for a gentle, lingering kiss, ignoring the little jump Will gives as their lips touch.
"My dear boy," Hannibal says when he draws away to look into Will's eyes, putting on his best "lost" expression. "Whatever are you talking about?
Will kisses him again instead of answering, desperate to capture the memory of Hannibal’s lips. He loves this man so much, a thought that tugs at his heart as he feels the weight of the glock in his back pocket.
“Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Donald Sutcliffe. All the others. It was you. It’s always been you.” He puts his hand on his gun and pulls it out.
Hannibal covers Will's hand over the gun, his free arm caging Will against him as strong as a steel bar, he seals thier lips together again, a passionate, hungry kiss. "I want you to consider what I have come to mean to you, what we have come to mean to each other." After a short pause with Will frozen like that, he rasps "Give me the gun."
Will shakes his head violently.
“No no no, you shut up and listen,” he spits. He gestures with the gun for Hannibal to sit down.
“Why, Hannibal? I need you to tell me why? Not just the murder, why me? Why twist me up and see what I would do? Why now?”
Hannibal doesn't budge from his place, but holds his hands up, keeping his eyes locked on Will. He gives him an unreadable look. "I am hesitant to discuss the particulars of your situation without first requesting that you lower your gun."
“Back up across the room and I’ll think about it.”
Hannibal eyes flash with animalistic intent. He takes one step forward.
Will makes a show of raising the gun, as if he would ever pull the trigger.
Hannibal comes forward so that the muzzle of the gun is pushing up against his chest. "The heart is here," he whispers, moving the gun with Will's hand in it to just right-of-center.
Will pushes the barrel hard against Hannibal’s jacket.
“You have a lot of explaining to do. I’m not shooting you until I get some answers. Why?”
Hannibal lets out a soft laugh. "You magnificemt thing, is it any wonder I belonged to you the minute I laid eyes on you?"
Faster than lightening can strike, Will is flat on his back on the floor, Hannibal's steel grip throwing his arms over his head. The gun goes off, then clatters to the floor as the two men struggle.
Hannibal is bigger and stronger, but Will is rage personified. He twists and writhes in Hannibal’s grasp until he can roll them over and press his forearm against Hannibal’s throat.
“You let me suffer, crime scene after crime scene when you could have just told me. You set my brain on fire just to put it out again. You gave me Abigail just to take her away. Why?”
The gun might still be out of Will's reach but Hannibal easily grabs it, and for a second the world turns upside down as Hannibal cracks Will over the head with it. Before Will can spill onto the floor, Hannibal catches him, regaining high ground and flattening Will beneath him. "Because, my dove, I would see you fly."
Hannibal holds him to the floor but makes it look as if he's just smoothing Wills hair back, forcing his mouth over Will's in a kiss that's more teeth than lips. When Will lets out a small whimper, Hannibal continues; "You alone are the embodiment of pain and passion. I have had you in my blood since the day we first met. You were yet in a larval state--timid and soft and breakable. And now, look at you, my killer butterfly. Emerging out of your shell and unfolding into the world around you, a world you could easily own, if you only had the desire."
Will responds by head butting him, rolling them back over and sliding the gun far out of reach. He can analyse why he did that rather than just shoot Hannibal later.
“All I ever did was love you. I could have known, and kept loving you. I’m fine with my inner darkness, Hannibal. I can look death in the eye no problem - I could look at scene after scene and lie to Jack about who the Ripper is. But you took something good and twisted it. How can you honestly look at me and say you love me after what you did?”
Hannibal is surprised, in earnest, that Will is handling this so well. His eyebrows go up and he cannot stop the laugh that erupts from him. "I'm sorry," he gasps between chuckles,"I'm just floored, honestly. You are more upset over my withholding of the information than you are the actual murders? You truly are my equal in every way."
“Part of me always knew about you. More than part of me hoped. The Ripper is an artist - brilliant strategician, aesthete, master with a scalpel. And there you were; beautiful, a genius, talented beyond belief. Hung like an elephant. And when you move it’s like the world holds its breath to see what you’ll do next. And I thought there’s a man I can love. But then it turns out that everything you said to me was horseshit. So let’s start here, shall we? Why did you call the Hobbs residence that day? I want the real reason, not some bollocks about me achieving my full potential.”
"Very well, if you are going to set the parameters for what you will and will not consider an acceptable answer", Hannibal asks, his face suddenly assuming the ultimate in psychiatrical clinicism , because he knows just how much that Will piss him off. "What do you think the real reason is?"
“Because you just wanted to.”
“That’s all I ever was, wasn’t it? Entertainment.”
"My dear William," Hannibal states. "Entertainment is what becomes of the people I consume. However, if it eases your conscience to think that passtime was our only connection, and not something deeper, than by all means believe that." Here he pauses to run both hands up Will's jean-clad thighs, his sharp nails dragging into the fabric and setting fireworks off along Will's spine. "Your body aches for mine. Your energy echoes mine. Your mind sees everything that my mind is, and so it is for me as well. Yet you come here insistent that my withholding information is strictly to, what?, flavour my meager existence? Who, then, is truly in denial about what one means to the other?"
“You say a lot of words that don’t really mean anything Doctor.” Will observes, wrapping a hand around Hannibal’s throat and squeezing gentle until he hears him cough faintly. “What was the end game? The grand finale?”
"Would...you like...to...see?" Hannibal rasps out.
Will feels a sudden stabbing sensation in the back of his neck. He reaches for it, but finds his limbs unable to react. He slumps forward and Hannibal catches him in his strong arms, gentling him with a kiss to his forehead. "Sssh, now, my sweet boy. That's enough for now...when you awake, things will be made clear."
Will spirals down into the deafening blackness...
When he wakes up, they are moving. He can see the back Hannibal's silver/blonde head peaking out from the front seat. When he tries to sit up, he realizes he has been hog-tied and can do little besides flop around on his side.
"You're awake," Hannibal announces cheerfully when thier eyes meet in the rear view mirror. "Excellent. Now, before you begin spouting off, I would like to inform you that we will be arriving at the airport very shortly and I expect you to be on your best behavior
He finishes with a skeptical tilt of his eyebrows as if he is the father and Will is his juvenile delinquent son. "Do we understand each other?"
“No we don’t fucking understand each other,” Will says before he goes insane, wriggling around like a landed fish. All he manages is to badly bang his shin and he gives up with a pained moan.
“Hannibal we cant just leave the dogs like this.”
Hannibal sighs, pinching the space between his eyes and turning another corner. Oddly enough, Will's concern for the dogs is progress. "I have informed Alana that I have whisked you away for a surprise holiday. Depending upon your behavior I may arrange for the dogs to be flown over to join us in the coming weeks."
Upon noticing Will's glower still fresh on his face, Hannibal shakes his head. "Aren't you going to inquire about our destination? Honestly, William, you can be so inconsiderate. Your propensity for ungratefulness is mind-boggling."
“You people eating prick!! Inconsiderate? I let you fry my brain, fry my friends and feed them to me and I STILL would have stuck by you. I just wanted some honesty.”
"When have I not been honest with you, William? Withholding and deceit are two very different things. It concerns me that you are so seemingly obsessed with this idea of "honesty". "
"And you are being a terribly rude boy," he quips.
Will mocks him. “Oh William, I’m sure what you have is a horrible mental illness, there’s no way I could just show you the results of your brain scan WHICH SHOWS MASSIVE SWELLING THAT COULD KILL YOU.”
Hannibals expression flatlines. "I never would have allowed it to progress that far. You were carefully monitored at all times."
“And THATS what I mean. I thought you were my paddle when actually you were the goddam problem.”
Hannibal tries desperately to not let that last part sting him right in the dead center of his chest. It fails. "It pains me to know you think so little of me," he murmurs. "Would you have preferred I treated you like Alana or Jack or any other number of the social leeches you surround yourself with? Allowed you to work yourself to the point of exhaustion and ignored all signs pointing to a steady breakdown of your body and mind?"
“If I thought little of you I’d have let you go to prison for what you’ve done, oh, instead of letting ME go to prison for what you’ve done, like you did.” Will is absolutely incandescent. “If I thought so little of you I’d have just shot you. I love you. That’s why you piss me off so much.”
Hannibal purses his lips into a fine line."You obviously have alot on your mind, William, and you are far more intent to prattle on about your misconceptions than listen to any sense of reason. So pray, continue."
“PRATTLE ON ABOUT MY MISCONCEPTIONS?!?! Did I imagine being locked up for months? And I still came back to you and you still murdered my friends, and are now acting like the victim when I’m a little hacked off about it. I would just like you to say ‘sorry for framing you for murder’ and BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ALSO GETTING ME RELEASED, I would like to point out that you also did that with murder."
Hannibal pulls over just before they get to the airport, into a small abandoned lot where they can have some privacy. Hannibal leaves the car running, puts it in park, and swings his door open. He rounds the car to Will's side. From his pocket he produces a curved blade as he swings open the door and yanks Will out of the Bentley, forcing him awkwardly to standing, but with his ankles and hands bound Will wobbles unsteadily. Hannibal holds him to keep him front falling over.
“You don’t have anything to say when you know I have a point do you?”
Hannibal grabs Will roughly by the hair, forcing his head back, allowing the blade to hover dangerously close to his carotid. "Brave boy," Hannibal murmurs, his expression one of quiet admiration. "So bold even with a knife at your throat. Though I suppose you feel I have put you through worse."
“I don’t have to feel that Hannibal, you have put me through worse. Like actually. And you aren’t going to hurt me now. You’ve gone to too much trouble.”
"Clever, sweet boy," Hannibal murmurs, leaning forward to brush thier lips together. "Everything I have done to you has been for your benefit, my darling. This world is not worthy of your greatness. Sometimes, I fear, neither am I. Forgive me my negligence, my beloved. In my fervour to witness your Becoming, I sacrificed your trust." He draws him in for another kiss before adding, "I am going to release you now. I packed your belongings in advance. I will retrieve them from the trunk and leave them here with you. Five miles south of here is a small diner with a payphone. You can walk there and call Jack to come pick you up... *or*.....
You can come with me, somewhere where the weather is mild and the architecture is ancient and beautiful. We will have a long flight ahead of us, where all your questions can be addressed. If I let you go, will you be a good boy ?"
“Of course I’m coming with you, you fucking monster.” Will leans in for another kiss. “But don’t think you are off the hook by any means - you are going to apologise to me, and don’t think perfect bone structure will help you.”
Hannibal smiles. It already has.
The airport is purposefully out in the middle of nowhere. There are very few cars in the parking lot and virtually no waiting to board thier flight. They take thier seats and Hannibal puts up the arm rest so he can hold Will's hand. Will still hasn't looked into his eyes, his scruffy little jaw set like a pouting chil and to Hannibal it is just the cutest thing. He squeezes Will's hand gently, stealing a little kiss behind his ear when the stewardess isnt looking. "My dove, you are so pensive," he cooes. "Aren't you going to ask where we are headed?"
“Does it matter?” Will looks at him for the first time, his eyes a storm of desire, anger, sadness and no small glimmer of admiration. “Home is you. I’ve accepted that. I’m not pleased with you, but I’ve accepted that. When did you start?”
Hannibal nuzzles Will's neck, audibly breathing in his scent and sliding his eyes closed. "I admit I am not entirely pleased with my handling of the situation either. I have been selfish and jealous and altogether too covetous of your time and affection. I put a sickness in your brain to control you, to slow you down. When that didn't work, I put you behind bars. Until I realized I would go mad without you beside me at every second. I gave you a child twice, and took them away out of my own arrogance and pain. I have already arranged for the dogs to join us at our new home. They will arrive a week behind us, so that you have ample time to prepare for thier arrival and to get settled in. And this may not be the time or place, and it certainly will not begin to make up for my terrible behavior, but..." Here, Hannibal pulls a small black box out of his pocket, opening it reverently as he slides it across to Will. Inside is a wide gold band lined all the way around with with diamonds that look like they cost more than Will's and Hannibal's houses combined. "Mr. William Graham, would you grant me the eternal honor of being your husband?"
Will is more than a little taken aback. He had expected to work hard to get his apology, and certainly hadn’t expected it to be given so soon, and in the company of a proposal. He picks up the ring and puts it on, admiring it for a second before picking up the blanket Hannibal has brought for them.
“Put this over me as if I’m sleeping,” he says, before getting to work on Hannibal’s fly.
"Will, darling--" Hannibal tries to protest as quietly as possible, pushing gently on Will's shoulder as he feels himself getting sucked down Will's throat half-mast. He quickly does as he's told with the blanket, his eyes rolling back in his head as he tries desperately to bite off a groan.
Will is aiming to get Hannibal off, but it’s meant to be a punishment as well as a present. He sucks far harder than he knows Hannibal likes, enjoying the way the other man squirms underneath him.
Hannibal is more than aware of Will's dual intent, hissing in pain and pulling back on Will's hair as his cock hardens fully in spite of himself. Though Will is nearly 20 years his junior, Hannibal's body responds like an over anxious teenager. He switches between bucking his hips closer and trying to get away. "Cruel boy," he rasps.
Will rewards him with a moment of eye contact, and he threatens to pull back off Hannibal’s cock, which would leave him exposed in front of the plane. Hannibal has no choice but to push him back down again, and Will responds by taking him all the way to the back of his throat, dragging his tongue down the underside and swallowing hungrily.
Hannibal's head hits the seat, his stomach clenching, his breath coming in short, tantric waves. He sees no end to this besides the obvious, but he has no intentions of suffering this embarrassment alone. He licks a finger and smooths his hand down Will's back, easily dipping it into his waistband to cup his pretty ass, sliding his finger around Will's tight entrance and revelling in his uncomfortable squirming.
Will sees stars when Hannibal starts teasing his hole; it feels so much better because of how elicit it is. Next time they fly he’s going to make Hannibal fork out for one of those private cabins so he can ride him from wheels up to touch down. He pushes back onto Hannibal’s fingers as he feels his now fiancé start to come with a low grunt that he then has to disguise as a coughing fit. Will swallows everything he has, continuing to gently tease his cock until it starts to go soft.
Hannibal's sharp tugs turn to soft strokes as he adds in another finger. He tucks himself back into his pants, determined that Will have a hard time holding in his own voice as he adds yet another finger, his impossibly long digits easily finding his prostate, starting a punishinh rhythm. "Imagine my cock inside of you, my dove," He rasps, leaning down to lathe his tongue around the ellipse of Will's ear. "Because that is what is going to happen as soon as we land. I'm going to carry you over the threshold of our new Villa, lay you down across the cafè and enter you in one go."
Will’s inhibitions are long gone - something about running away with your cannibal boyfriend will do that. He sits up to allow Hannibal better access, kissing along his jaw and sucking lazily on an earlobe.
“Bathroom? Follow me two minutes.”
Hannibal's eyes flutter, his brain doing backflips as Will pulls away. Before he can properly respond, Will is already adjusting his pants and heading down the aisle. Hannibal isn't completely certain he can get hard again so soon after getting off. But he realizes soon after that that's hardly the point now is it? The stewardess comes by and he orders two tall glasses of Armand de Brignac (It was a celebratory thought, as he is convinced that Will would most likely not have put on the ring and sucked him off without accepting his proposal), but he is practically vibrating with nervous giddiness so he drowns them both in one go. ....
It is a small plane with 30 or so passengers, not quite luxurious yet worlds away from being an Airbus. Nobody bats an eye when Hannibal stands up, smooths himself and trounces off to the back. ....
"Will," he murmurs, cracking the door open. Without warning he is pulled in, the door locked behind him as Will pushes him against the glass and kisses him feverishly. Will climbs him like a tree but Hannibal pries him off, holding him at arms length. "Stop, my sweetheart. Stop for just a moment and humor me." Ignoring Will's lost expression he slides down onto one knee in front of him, taking the hand with the engagement ring and kissing it and all the knuckles, turning it over and doing the same to his palm.
"You are my match in every way. I know I have been bad to you. I know I have been cruel. I plan to remedy all of that in our new life together.
"The man kneeling before you has waited his entire life to be seen, wholly and completely, by the one who shares his soul. I am assuming I already know the answer, but please, humor an old man by saying it out loud. Do you, William Graham, accept my proposal?"
“What was it about putting on the ring and then blowing you in front of a plan full of people that makes you think I haven’t said yes?” Will said looking confused and more than a little annoyed. “You gonna finger me until I come or what?”
Hannibal laughs the King of the non-answer has been ousted from his throne. "I was planning on hopping you up onto the counter and having you right here, but now..."
“Oh can you get it up again? Impressive, Lecter, very impressive.” Will takes some hand lotion from the wall dispenser (a plane with hand lotion, how much did these tickets cost? He thinks) and starts to prepare himself, stroking Hannibal through his trousers at the same time.
Hannibal consoles himself with the thought that perhaps not explicitly answering the question gives Will some semblance of control, and Hannibal decides to give it to him. He plucks Will up in his arms as if he is a feather and deposits him onto the marble counter top (again, Hannibal congratulates himself on his choice of air travel....not bad for last minute booking, Lecter, not bad at all) and swats Will's hand away from his hole. "Bad boy," he chastens, flattening Will against the bathroom mirror. "That is my property." Before Will can argue too much about it, Hannibal's fingers sink back into his warmth, wiggling around the tight muscle and finding his prostate once again.
Will moans loudly once before remembering where he is, fixing Hannibal with a mortified look and clapping his hands over his mouth. The sensation is so intense and he is soon rocking on Hannibal’s fingers, chasing kisses that he can’t finish because the teasing touches keep making his gasp. He grasps hold of Hannibal’s shoulders, frowning with concentration and breathing hard through his nose.
“Yes I’ll marry you,” stutters out before “Fuck, Han, I’m...” and then he comes all over Hannibal’s shirt.
Hannibal chuckles softly, holding Will close as he recovers. He runs some water and cleans him up, careful to dry any incriminating spots on Will's outfit.
He looks down at the mess on his own button up and tie, wipes off what he can and removes them. For now an undershirt and a dress suit will have to do. "What do you think?," he asks, turning to model it for Will. "Perhaps I will start a new fashion." He tucks the used garments under one arm, takes Will's hand, and leads him out of the bathroom.
Will keeps his eyes firmly on the floor as they walk back to their seats. There is a light smattering of applause, which was generous considering. He looks at the pair of empty champagne flutes with a smirk, tucking himself under Hannibal’s arm and wrapping an arm round him, not minding the wet spot.
“So where are we going?” He yawns.
"To build our memory palace," Hannibal says sweetly in his ear.