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Something that Hannibal had ever expected is the fact that he would ever find anyone that would ever be able to see him. But Will has always been the one variable he could ever fully predict. Hannibal is watching the man as he chops wood for their fire. With fall beginning to set in their little cottage is getting colder in the evenings, and Hannibal still cannot cope with the cold. Makes him feel too much like that little boy in Lithuania who had been unable to protect his sister.
Will had noticed of course, had pressed kisses against his cold fingers and then added more fuel to the fire. He is like the sun to which Hannibal turns at every opportunity, Will runs hot anyway and he had just forgone another layer. In bed at night Will snuggles into his chest and it keeps Hannibal warm, he radiates heat and Hannibal is absolutely shameless when it comes to seeking that warmth. Will is indulgent and endlessly patient with him. It seems that he always feels as though he needs to cool down.
Hannibal thinks it a cruel twist of fate now, that it had taken them so long to get to this point. The injuries that he had inflicted on Will, and the wounds Will had caused Hannibal in retaliation were countless. At the same time Hannibal isn’t sure that he would change anything that had brought them here. The Will he has in his life now is a creature without comparison. Cruel and kind in equal measure. Exacting punishment on those he deems unworthy and showering the dog they had found and Hannibal in warm affection.
There is little Hannibal wouldn’t do for him now. He knows that Will feels the same way. They are like two stars orbiting one another, burning everything in their path. It is strange that they have settled in a small cottage in the English countryside. The tiny island has patches of land that remain almost completely unbuilt. Hannibal knows that Will loves it, the open expanse of land with no one around. The English polite enough not to comment on an American and Eastern European man walking hand in hand into supermarkets.
This cottage that Hannibal had owned for decades feels like home in a way nothing has in a long time. He misses Baltimore but it is clear now that Baltimore had just been a stopping place until Will had entered his life.
Will puts away the wood he had just finished chopping and collects more firewood from their stores. Hannibal listens to the back door open and then close, he is currently negotiating with the stove. That was something that he still wishes to remodel now that it feels like they have taken root here. The clicking of nails on the floor lets Hannibal know that their dog had heard that a door had opened and is coming to investigate.
She had been found at the side of the road, a pitiful thing. Will had made them stop the car as soon as he had seen her. The poor thing had jumped into Will’s arms almost immediately, shivering and caked in dirt. Will had kept her pressed close to his chest the entire ride back. Once they had found a vet they had gotten her checked over. No owner seemed apparent and after a few treatments she was deemed healthy if underfed. Hannibal knew the feeling well and Will hadn’t even had to ask. They had simply taken her with them. Will had bathed her and cut the mats out of her long cream fur. The entire time she had trembled like a leaf. She had surprised both of them when after being fed that she had jumped onto the sofa and curled up, with her body pressed against Hannibal’s leg. In that moment Hannibal had known he had made the right choice. He kept one gentle hand on her back the entire evening as he read from his book. Will had named her Lucky the next morning when he had found Hannibal in the kitchen making food for her.
Lucky yips at Will when she sees him, her tail wagging wildly. Will bends down to pet her gently over her head. When he stands again he approaches Hannibal and presses a kiss against his cheek. His nose and lips are cold from outside. But the blush on his cheeks from the cold is endearing, it reminds Hannibal of other things that have Will that flushed.
“Go put the firewood away, only a few more minutes till dinner.”
“Yessir.” Will says jokingly. Lucky looks between them for a few moments before deciding to settle in the bed Hannibal had gotten for her for the kitchen. She is well behaved and doesn’t get underneath Hannibal’s feet as he moves around their kitchen. He never would have found himself wanting a pet, but Lucky’s gentle nature and Will’s training means that she has wormed her way into his heart. He manages to finish making dinner before Will is back in the kitchen and sets the small table tucked away in the corner of the room.
Hannibal never would have thought that they would settle here, but it somehow worked for them. Will returns to the kitchen and when he sees the set table he sighs. “I said I’d do it.”
“You can wash up later, if you like.”
Will hums as he sits at the table, clearly a little annoyed but he knows that Will has worked up an appetite outside. Hannibal puts the bowl of stew in front of him, curls of steam slightly distorting Will’s face. He sits with his own bowl and then lifts his spoon. He waits for Will to take a spoonful first. As usual Will moans at the taste. Everything about the man is a feast for Hannibal’s senses. If it weren’t for the fact that he needs to eat he would be content to gorge himself only on Will, spend hours mapping out everything Will has to offer into his memory palace for his perusal. Will grins at him, like he knows exactly what Hannibal is thinking.
“What have you made me now?”
“Just a simple winter stew. The key ingredient was your pick.”
“Ah yes. I remember now. He was such a frightful pest.”
Hannibal loves that even now, when all the cards have been laid on the table that they can still talk around these things like their procurement of select cuts for their pantry. Hannibal has given Will free reign to veto any decision. Having Will be an active participant is more than he could ever have dreamed, but he knows that the darkness he had in Will all those years ago might not have been a direct mirror of his own darkness but it was a perfect complement to his own monster. Hannibal wouldn’t have it any other way.