Chapter Text
Digital art made by me - via my Tumblr - odetolove95 (The kiss that almost happened)
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Outlaws.
Will always felt like an outlaw since the beginning, with his gift to step into the minds of criminals, reconstruct a crime scene, and figure out their motives. The vivid imagery always left a lasting impression on his brain. He always felt like the odd one, the round peg in the square hole. It didn’t quite bother him, though. If anything bothered him, it would be his nightmares and…
Hannibal Lecter.
Pompously confident and darkly observant.
Tortured, but fair in his judgement,
A predator.
The enigma Will had dug his fingers eagerly into.
Thanks to him, the two of them were literally outlaws now. Left to rely on no one but each other.
Hannibal was the first person Will ever had intellectual conversations with about the bloody details of the cases he worked on and the architecture of the mind. The nuances of psychology. He would’ve enjoyed those conversations had Hannibal not driven him up the wall sometimes.
Their relationship could never be put into words. As complex as a labyrinth. The only ones who truly understood their thoughts and feelings were each other. At first, Will thought of him as a friend, then a murderer after he came to know the truth. For a while, he wanted to kill him, but could never bring himself to do it. Despite Hannibal’s grisly acts, Will often found himself drawn to him. Maybe because… he understood himself better around him, and somewhere along the line, he had started to become more like him. There was always a layer of enigma to Hannibal that Will truly wanted to understand. Eventually, it all became too much to handle and he gave up on it. He no longer wanted anything to do with him.
Hannibal definitely wanted everything to do with him, though. Why else would he let himself get arrested and make sure he stayed within Will's sights? It was a strange, dark kind of attraction. Or maybe attraction was too weak a word for it.
Love.
Twisted, deranged love, yet real love all the same.
Will had the pleasure of finding that out from dear Bedelia. He knew something was off about Hannibal (something was always off about him but that wasn’t the point). Off, as in, he had noticed the hints, the signs of attraction, and brushed them off, thinking he was probably too self-absorbed. In that process, he didn’t realize when he’d fallen for him, too. At least, until the night at the cliff house.
That was about—give or take—two days ago.
Most of it was a vivid memory. The first things that popped into his head when he remembered it were the stormy skies and the stains of dark blood. Gaping stab wounds weren’t pretty. Despite his soaked, blood-tainted clothes, Will wasn’t paying much attention to his injuries.
He wasn’t thinking at that moment. Only feeling. Things he never felt before.
***
When they took down Dolarhyde together, Will truly connected with Hannibal, in every sense of the word, and once that invisible string bound them together, he couldn’t get out of it. Yes, he was in love. He felt it when he wrapped Hannibal in an embrace, and buried his face in his neck. He heard a sigh of satisfaction escape Hannibal’s lips, like this was what he wanted all along. He thought of taking a plunge over the cliff, and he almost did, when he coiled an arm around Hannibal’s neck.
Then stopped.
He didn’t want to. He had once wished to run away with him. He really wanted them to go away together. Somewhere nobody would find them, nobody would bother them.
Now he wished for it again.
They were so dangerously close and he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his scarlet lips to Hannibal’s and feeling him push back. The metallic taste of blood didn’t deter them one bit.
Bleeding profusely from his wounds took a toll on Will, who was barely holding himself up as it was. He staggered, holding onto Hannibal for support, until finally collapsing in his arms. The other clutched him tight as they both dropped to the ground. The one thing that took him by surprise was seeing the veil of stoicism on Hannibal’s face fall off and his vulnerability come forth. His brows knitted together and his voice wavered. He felt his strong arm cradling him, and his hand holding his face.
“Will,” he heard him say. “Stay with me.”
Will wanted to respond, but the lightheadedness didn’t let him. He drew in shallow breaths, trying to form words and failing. He didn’t know if he was going to survive. Maybe that’s fine. However, he didn’t want to die without saying the things he always wanted to say to Hannibal.
If only he had a little strength.
Hannibal willed him to stay awake, his voice growing louder and more desperate. His face inches apart.
“Will, look at me,” he said. “Stay awake. Don’t leave me.”
Will’s matted, blood-stained curls stuck to his forehead. His eyelids felt heavy. Whatever happened next came in glimpses, through fleeting moments of consciousness, when he fought to stay awake. He could still hear Hannibal’s voice, but it sounded distant, like an echo. He felt himself being picked up and carried into the cliff house.
Did they have time?
Maybe some, if they were lucky.
Placing him on the sofa, Hannibal clamped a hand to his own stomach as he rushed into the other room. Will knew he couldn’t take him to the hospital, not with Jack and the FBI on his tail. Even with a bullet lodged in his flesh, Hannibal’s priority was saving him. The man held too much confidence in himself, and rightfully so, considering how resilient he was. Will knew he would survive. Unlike himself.
Hannibal returned with what looked like bandages and a bottle. Had to be disinfectant. There was a blanket too.
“This will hurt a little,” Hannibal said, ripping his shirt open.
Will let out a weak groan at the sting, followed by the burn of the disinfectant, and the pressure when the bandages were clamped on him. Hannibal was taking a risk by helping him. He shouldn’t.
“Han…” he breathed.
“Save your strength,” Hannibal replied.
“Go…”
“It’s too late for that now.”
Will shook his head slowly, trying hard to push him away. His own death didn’t concern him. He knew the FBI had no intention of sending Lecter back to the asylum. The man would be shot on sight, and that was a risk Will refused to take.
Hannibal’s eyes flashed with a spark of determination. “I’m not going to abandon you, Will. And I will not let you die.”
For himself, he grabbed one of the bandages and clamped it to his bullet wound, taping it. He draped the blanket over Will, gritting his teeth as he lifted him in his arms. He hurried out of the house and to the cop car he had stolen. Opening the backseat, he carefully placed him inside before hurrying to the front. He grunted as he got in, dumping the first-aid items on the passenger seat.
Will heard the sound of the engine revving. Maybe this would’ve been a good way to go had he not felt a tinge of regret. He almost had a real chance to be with Hannibal this time, and fate snatched it from him like the cruel thing it was.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he heard Hannibal say..
Will had been trying to do just that. He could barely discern Hannibal’s dark silhouette in the driver’s seat. His mind wandered off to random thoughts, memories, images.
“Stay awake.”
He closed his eyes, hearing a faint echo and thinking it was probably his delirious mind playing tricks on him.
Of all the things it could come up with, it had to be the image of Hannibal’s office, with the two of them sitting comfortably in armchairs, having one of their sessions. Oddly enough, it was one of Will's brighter memories. Back then, he would’ve never considered it that way. If he knew then what he did now, he might’ve seen it differently.
“Will?”
There was a faint screech, a slight jerk, doors opening and closing. A moment later, he felt hands patting his face firmly.
“Will, wake up. Come back to me.”
Hannibal's voice sounded much closer now. It was so dark Will couldn’t tell if he was awake. All he heard was Hannibal’s alarmed voice, and the feel of his warm breath gusting over his face.
“Don’t die on me, Will. Not now. Please.”
Then there was silence. Still, pitch-black silence, where pain and suffering had ceased. In fact, there was nothing.
After everything that had happened, this was good enough for Will. To not be able to feel anything. This was probably the closest thing to peace he would get.
***
To Hannibal, Will's still and lifeless form was anything but peaceful. He hated being powerless, and yet, in front of fate, it was all he felt. His desperate pleas fell on deaf ears.
The bandages would probably stem the bleeding for the time being, but he had to get Will help as soon as possible. He needed to gain some distance before he could help him, though. He scrambled out of the car and over to the front seat again, driving off in a rush.
Hannibal spent a long time chasing Will, yearning to be with him, hoping he would reciprocate his feelings. He did everything in his power to make that happen. It was all he wanted, and Will finally gave in to him like he hoped he would. That brief kiss back there was proof.
Hannibal would be damned if he let death take that away.
He kept glancing at Will through the rearview mirror, lying there, cocooned in the blanket. There had to be some place, anywhere, he could find help. Or supplies.
Driving for ten minutes, he came upon a medical center. Taking Will there was a risky idea. Then again, it was the only way to save his life, especially when the alternative would be to lose him forever. It depended on whether Hannibal was willing to risk it all for him.
His fingers squeezed the wheel as he approached the building, his practical mind warning him against slowing down. It’s not worth getting caught. Will might not even make it anyway.
His jaw tightened as he wrenched the wheel and headed towards the center. The hell he won’t survive. He stopped near the building and hurried out, to the backseat, and carefully carried Will out.
In the end, his emotions spoke louder than his reasoning.
***
Will awoke two days later on a bed, wrapped warm and snug under a blanket. After the bloodbath that night, he had no clue where he was and how he ended up there. He found himself in a cabin of some sort. His mouth felt dry and his muscles stiff.
The door opened and Hannibal entered, balancing a bowl, cotton, and fresh bandages in his hands.
“Finally,” he said, placing them on the nightstand. “I was getting worried.”
Will’s wound smarted when he tried to sit up, and he groaned. Hannibal helped him, adjusting the pillow so he could rest back. Will eyed the bowl on the tray, filled with steaming soup.
“I remember the last time you brought me that, when I was at the hospital.”
“I remember.” Hannibal sat beside him with the bowl.
“Smells as good as last time.”
Hannibal took a spoonful of soup, blew on it and fed it to him.
“Tastes delicious,” said Will. “No matter where we are, you’ll always find a way to make good food.”
“It’s my forte. Also, I’m mindful of what I put in my stomach.”
“I’ll bet.” Will looked around the room. “Reminds me of home, without my dogs. Where are we?”
“Somewhere remote.”
“Are we still in Baltimore?”
“We are roughly three hours away from there.”
“That’s your idea of a hideout? They’ll hunt us down as long as we're in Maryland.”
“It’s less of a hideout and more of a… pit stop, so to speak. It’s been two days and they still haven’t tracked us. Not out here. Until you get better and regain your strength, we stay here.”
“And after that?”
Hannibal blew on the soup. “You tell me.”
“I think the smarter choice would be to leave me and run.”
“Maybe..”
And yet, when he could be miles away, Hannibal's here with Will, feeding him chicken soup. Hannibal was gentle in his caring, for reasons Will didn’t know yet.
Or maybe he did.
Will half-smiled, leaning back. “Getting soft on me?”
“It wouldn’t be the first.” Hannibal finished feeding him the soup, then kept the bowl on the nightstand. “I need to change your bandages.”
Will stared at him, letting him unbutton his shirt with a delicate intimacy, and part its halves open. He winced when Hannibal removed the bandages, glancing down at the stitches. Hannibal picked up a cotton ball wet with disinfectant and gently cleaned the wound. Will grunted softly, trying to stay still. He struggled to believe how far the man went for him, risking his life to treat him, drive him all the way here, and take care of him. He could’ve easily bailed if he wanted to.The scenes of that night were seared into Will’s brain, as were the sounds of Hannibal’s pleas, willing him to stay awake, refusing to let him die. Regardless of their rocky relationship, Hannibal wouldn’t go that far for just anyone.
To top it all, the man had been shot, but didn’t bring it up once. Didn’t complain about it.
“How’s your injury?” Will asked.
“I’ll be fine,” came the reply.
Will didn’t doubt that. He knew Hannibal was tough and could take care of himself. He’d done it plenty of times, and had escaped the jaws of death. If anything, death probably feared him.
“Thank you,” Will said. “For saving me.”
Hannibal tilted his head. Will could see the pleased lines of his face; that he appreciated the sentiment, at least.
“I intend to keep you by my side. It’s only natural I’d make sure of it.”
In other words, ‘I want to be with you, and I can’t afford to lose you’.
Will picked up on the meanings easily. His connection with Hannibal was profound enough that he could read between the lines, and the more he learned about him, the more happiness it gave him to learn he had made a monumental impact on Hannibal Lecter—the man who bowed before no one and was not swayed by mercy.
Except by Will.
He had to admit, the time he had paid Hannibal a visit at the asylum to seek his help with taking down Dolarhyde, and had to say ‘please’, he couldn’t help but subtly flirt in the process. It gave him a bit of a thrill to know he alone could sway him. Lecter probably knew what he was up to, and yet, it didn’t stop him from falling for it. When Will drew that close just to say ‘please’, he saw Hannibal’s eyes home in on his lips with a glint of desire, like he wanted to kiss him. The strait-jacket was probably the only thing holding him back.
That moment felt like yesterday. Here they were, on the run with their futures uncertain.
"You patched me up pretty well," Will said. "Considering I was close to death."
"I didn't," Lecter said. "I took you to a medical center. They treated you. Once they were done, I took you from there and brought you here."
"Why did you do that? You could've been caught or worse."
"There's nothing worse than losing the one you love."
Will was at a loss for words. It was one thing finding out Hannibal's feelings from Bedelia. Even with that knowledge, it was still surprising hearing it directly from him.
Hannibal finished cleaning and bandaging his wounds. He kept a fresh change of clothes on the bed.
“I’m going to get a few things for dinner in the evening,” he said. “You can come along if you wish. Tomorrow we can decide where we go from here.”
“Where we go from here?” Will asked.
“Your options would be limited if you were to go back to the FBI.”
“I’d go to prison. Again. I doubt anyone would come to get me out. There isn’t much to decide in such circumstances.” Will glanced down at his hands. “Especially considering what I’ve become.”
He wasn’t familiar with the man he was anymore. Everything had changed, and they had gone too far—literally and figuratively—to turn back now. There was no life to go back to, no home, or dogs. He left Molly behind. He left the old Will Graham behind too. Maybe he was the creature Hannibal had always said was inside him.
Perhaps a sliver of him remained, but… it felt different. What he did to Dolarhyde was something he’d never imagined he’d do. He said he wanted to watch the Dragon change Hannibal when, in reality, it was he who changed. Indirectly.
“Do you regret it?” Hannibal’s voice pierced the veil of silence.
“Regret isn’t the word I’d use,” Will replied. “I’m far away from home. Lost the life I once had.”
“You wish you could go back?”
A pause followed. “There’s nothing to go back to.”
Will got off the bed and to his feet, stripping down to his boxers in front of Hannibal without thinking twice. If he was, he’d probably ask him to step outside first. He caught him staring from the corner of his eye. Hannibal didn’t even bother tearing his gaze away, brazenly ogling him with that subtle smile he always gave.
Will went into the bathroom, pointedly avoiding his gaze. His sutures wouldn't let him take a shower, so he settled for running a small towel under the tap. He began cleaning his arm, his neck and collarbone, avoiding the bandage on his shoulder. He struggled to clean his back without his stitches stinging, wincing as he tried to reach behind. Hannibal appeared at the doorway, clearly unable to get enough of him.
“Need help?” he asked, entering the bathroom.
“Please,” Will replied, handing him the towel.
Hannibal moved up close behind him—too close—until Will could feel his breath making the hair rise on the back of his neck. Hannibal ran the towel along his back while his other hand lingered below Will's shoulder blade. Will smirked slightly, seeing his reflection in the mirror. Lecter was deliberately taking his own time with cleaning him, using the excuse to feel his skin. Hannibal took a whiff of him, taking in his sweet, unique scent. To him, it was as heady as any perfume, enough to turn him on. His fingers skimmed down the sides of Will's body, memorizing his curves before slipping to the front and feeling his stomach.
Will’s skin tingled everywhere he touched. The damp towel ran down his back slowly, down, down to the base of his spine before he stopped it there. When he turned his head to face him, their noses almost brushed.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll take it from here.”
Hannibal stared at him until Will took the towel and turned back to the mirror. He slowly took his hands away, enamored and bewitched as hell by him. It was as if the man had spun a trap made of gold and Hannibal willingly walked into it.
Will Graham—the only human being who drove him insane.
And like the cunning boy he was, Will led him on, as he did at this moment, depriving him of the opportunity to touch and feel him properly. He wanted to play with him a little, just to see how deep his feelings went. He wanted to see for himself how madly Hannibal loved him, if he really loved him that way.
Hannibal smacked his lips softly before walking out of the bathroom.
***
With his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, Will looked around at the woods surrounding the cabin, glancing up at the canopy of trees, and then to an old grey Nissan Sentra with a black bumper parked nearby. As the sky darkened, it brought an eerie, ominous atmosphere to the woods. Will felt the dull ache of his injuries overpowered by the biting cold, turning the tip of his nose red and his skin paler than it was. Mist escaped his mouth as he exhaled. On top of that, it drizzled.
How Hannibal managed to find a damn cabin in the woods was beyond him. Then again, the man was resourceful and clever. He’d lived in Florence all that time under a false identity and a pretend wife, so finding a cabin shouldn’t be impossible for him. Of all the places he could take them, he came to… wherever this was in Maryland.
“Where did you get rid of the cop car?” He asked.
“Somewhere that would mislead the police,” Hannibal replied, walking to the Nissan. “This one’s more low profile.”
“Clearly. Is the owner alive?”
Hannibal gave him a furtive glance before getting into the car.
“Right,” Will said, walking to the car and getting in.
***
They drove to the nearest store in a remote town about an hour away. Hannibal had made a mental note of the routes, possible escape points and such, for when the time came. True, he could’ve taken them anywhere, but he couldn’t do that when Will was bleeding out at the back of the car. He had to stop eventually, get them someplace they could rest a bit.
They reached the store, and he pulled over near it.
“Nice place, I suppose,” Will said, getting out of the car. “I wonder what Jack and Alana are conversing at this moment.”
“Whatever it is, I assume it’s frustrating. They didn’t plan on us escaping together. They might assume you wanted to.”
“They wouldn’t be wrong. After all, I lost the chance of running away with you once.”
It gave Hannibal a kind of happiness to see his beloved unraveling his feelings in front of him. He couldn’t have asked for anything more. This right here, the two of them, walking along the streets together, could be one of his best memories, aside from that quiet moment at the Uffizi gallery. Shame that was ruined, but it was water under the bridge.
“I’m surprised you managed to get some money,” Will said.
“I always have backup plans,” Hannibal replied.
“Don’t I know that.”
They went into the store, to aisles of fresh fruits and vegetables. Hannibal kept his head low and kept track of the time he spent, not wanting to linger around anywhere longer than necessary. Will stood by, hands in his jeans pockets, while Hannibal grabbed some shallots, among other necessary items.
“It’s weird we’re grocery shopping while on the run,” Will said. “Pretty sure this town has restaurants.”
“They don’t suit my appetite,” Hannibal replied.
Will drew closer. “And what suits your appetite?”
Hannibal glanced at him, picking up on his flirtatious advances. “My preferences are specific, as you well know. And we’re not alone.”
Will looked around, seeing the store was somewhat empty, save for a few people in the other aisles. Nobody was in their immediate vicinity, at least for the time being. Seizing the window of opportunity, he pressed his lips to Hannibal’s.
Hannibal stilled, his brain firing off like crazy, and his pulse picking up pace. Time seemed to slow down, the imaginary ticking of a clock sounding off in his mind, getting slower, slower. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Although brief, the kiss was soft, inquisitive, as if Will was testing the waters. Hannibal felt a tinge of disapproval when the contact broke too quickly. He eyed Will’s lips as if expecting him to kiss him again, harder and more ardently this time. It aroused him so strongly he wanted to kiss the hell out of him, possibly do more. A lot more. The man ignited his temptations at the most inappropriate time.
“Wanted to remember what that felt like,” Will said.
Nobody could quite render Hannibal speechless the way he did. He had no clue how to respond.
“We gonna stand here the whole night?” Will asked.
Hannibal tore his gaze away from those spellbinding blue eyes, catching a glimpse of the smile on Will's face as he turned around. Will followed close behind.