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Hannibal Lecter was said to be a man of fine tastes. Specific tastes- if you will. Tastes that several of his peers could not even begin to expect, and he would like to keep it that way. But there are rare moments when he was surprised. It is even more rare when he realizes there is something he liked that he had not even considered to be his taste.
But here it is. Here he is.
“Beautiful…” He found himself murmuring, unable to take his eyes off of the man in front of him at the skating rink.
The man was tall, scruff across his jaw, and wild curls that gave the illusion of a halo. When Hannibal had managed to see what color his eyes were as the man passed by- he felt the air in his throat take hold of him.
This man had taken him hostage, it seems. Taking Hannibal’s heart with him as he skated with the little girl clutching onto his hands.
Hannibal looked down at his sketchbook, realizing he hadn’t even sketched a single line once he had seen his eyes.
He was more than sure that the man hadn’t even seen him, for his eyes were almost glazed over as he spoke to the little girl. Yes, Hannibal was still hidden in the crowd. For now, at least.
Looking down, he took in what he had already sketched. There was the older man who drives the zamboni, the frail woman with the beautifully arched nose, and now the man in front of him. Truthfully, one would think he wasn’t anyone special. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was unbrushed, as if to make himself look unkempt. His scruff seemed like barbed wire to keep others out. And another thing Hannibal noticed was… The man always kept his eyes down. Almost every moment- unless he was forced to.
Hannibal could tell this was one of those moments, as the man is directing the little girl. Giving her a smile that was a hint too big, voice soft and higher in pitch, along with making his body smaller so she could hear him better. To feel like they were equals as they spoke, making eye contact.
Normally Hannibal didn’t have an opinion on children. However, witnessing this man look at this little girl with an air of care… it filled him with a sense of warmth. It was rather… charming.
With a soft hum, Hannibal looked down at his sketchbook again. He continued to draw, feeling like there may be enough to finish it. Rather than the others being portraits, this man would have a full body. It was what he deserved after all, being so beautiful.
There was a laugh that seemed to rouse Hannibal’s attention- making him look up to see the beautiful man speak to another. For an aching moment- Hannibal thought the man was with his partner. That he was taken before he even got the chance to even… But one long look at them made Hannibal feel at ease.
Taking in the people in front of him- it looked like two long term friends who have not seen each other in person for 5 plus years. Give or take- as there was still that closeness between them. But also this sense of awkwardness- of not knowing what the other is like anymore. Learning new things about the other every step of the way through conversing and observing.
It seemed that the man he found himself attracted to was putting up a charming front, as one does to show that he is fine.
That he is still the same man he was years ago, even though he probably isn’t. For better, or for worse.
It is all for the ease it brings the other party- who may have changed and are looking for comfort in their past.
Most would say it is rather kind of the man to do this- but Hannibal saw what it really was. This man wanted to run. To run far away from himself and throw away the key in case anyone tried to open him up in the way that matters.
Hannibal decided to focus on his sketch again, not wanting to look like he is paying too much attention. Soon he got lost in the sketch again, practically drowning in his own want.
Each stroke of the pencil is like a kiss he wished he could leave- every smudge like a caress. However there was one part of the drawing that wasn’t right.
Hannibal kept pausing on the man’s eyes- the eyes he had gotten a glimpse of. But not a complete look- and it was almost devastating.
How else would the image come alive as the man in front of him? He had to look again. The risk of being found out would be worth it. Raising his eyes from the page, Hannibal looked up.
Blinking rapidly, Hannibal found that the man had left. A sense of sadness swept through him before he looked at his sketch again.
What could he do now? It was unlikely he would see this man again, and he didn’t even catch his name.
After a few minutes of trying to figure out what to do for the sketch- Hannibal gave up. There was a small part of Hannibal that believed in fate. That because he was feeling this way about the man- this would not be the last he saw him.
The Fates were cruel, but Hannibal knew fate had been kind to him throughout the years. Possibly to make up for what had happened to his dear Mischa.
Hannibal pursed his lips for a moment before gracefully standing up and packing his things. He left the skating rink a disappointed man- feeling almost morose with the fact that he may never see this Adonis never again.
—--------
A few weeks had passed, and still Hannibal was plagued with thoughts of the Adonis. He decided to call the man that, as he wasn’t just any man. No… he was more than that. And it was difficult for Hannibal to think about anything else.
Today Hannibal was in the forest, as he was finishing on creating his latest project. He stripped the man he had killed- wanting to make a liver mousse and some tar tar for his future dinner guests. Hannibal even decided on making a roast- thinking what better way to flaunt his dominance over this pathetic excuse for a man.
The pig he had killed had been exceedingly ugly with how he treated those he considered below him. Hannibal was more than delighted to show him the consequences of such arrogance.
Would one say he is a hypocrite? Possibly. But the main difference between him and this pig was one thing. Hannibal understood the system. The system of society and its rules.
Hannibal was not a part of that society. Not really. He was in a league of his own- as The Fates have permitted. If he were to one day be pushed off this ledge, so be it. But that is yet to be seen. So as Hannibal saw it, it was his job to push others off of theirs.
There was a clearing through the trees, and he could easily hear the roar and gurgle of a river. There was a swish of a fishing line being thrown- and Hannibal swore he got a whiff of something familiar. Something he couldn’t quite place. But all he could think of was the rink- and how it almost stunk of this smell.
Unbidden hope surged through Hannibal’s heart as he extended his legs. When he passed the clearing- he found a man with his back to him.
“Are you lost?” The man asked, his voice like a symphony to Hannibal’s ears.
“That depends,” Hannibal answered, “Are you lost?”
The man loosened his grip on the fishing rod before turning around to face Hannibal. Once they met eyes, Hannibal felt like the final piece of the puzzle had met its match.
The Adonis’ blue eyes then swept along his frame- not lingering for too long on any part of him. Not even the blood along his clear suit.
Soon the Adonis’ eyes found his again, and Hannibal realized that the man looked hungry.
“Were you at the skating rink a few weeks ago?” The Adonis asked instead, turning away from him to focus on his line.
Hannibal blinked, feeling almost embarrassed at how he had been noticed. “Yes.” He said simply, “I was.”
The Adonis hummed, licking his lips before opening his mouth again. “How did it look? The final product?”
Hannibal found himself smiling, feeling his curiosity and admiration for the man rising. Adonis really didn’t miss anything, did he?
“It isn’t finished,” Hannibal stated, “For I needed to see your eyes again.”
A part of Hannibal wanted to mention what he had assessed, debating on if this would irk the Adonis in front of him… or impress him. As the saying goes… Curiosity killed the cat. And satisfaction brought it back.
“But I deemed that to be unattainable, as you seem to dislike eye contact. Or am I wrong in thinking so? As you made eye contact with me when I first entered.”
Adonis let out a soft snort, shaking his head in disbelief. “Did I just snag myself a psychiatrist stalker?”
Hannibal’s eyes lit up- how interesting. “Not a stalker- more of an admirer.”
“I don’t like psychiatrists,” The Adonis stated, turning his head to focus on Hannibal once more.
“I am not like other psychiatrists.” Hannibal mused, tilting his head to the side. “And I am not here on business,” He added.
There was another hum from Adonis, although this one was more amused. “No, you’re not.” He agreed.
Hannibal took a step closer, desperately wanting to be pulled into Adonis’ current. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Adonis cut him off.
“You’re here to bury the body of the man you just killed. You saw him as beneath you, didn’t you? You look like an arrogant guy, but you’re well aware of it. Your hubris will one day be your undoing.”
If there was ever a moment where cupid struck it’s bow and arrow- it was now. All Hannibal could do was watch as his Adonis continued to speak.
“But you won’t kill me,” He said causally, looking back at the river. “Even though you have shown yourself to me, you desperately want me to like you. To join you, even.”
The Adonis seemed to have gotten a bite, making him begin to reel it in. It was almost too easy for him- to have caught that fish… and Hannibal. Hannibal thought he was in charge, that he was the only predator in the room. But no… there was another. One that could rival him- or be his mate.
“Will you then?” He found himself asking, unable to stop himself.
His Adonis finished reeling in the fish, looking satisfied with his catch and moving toward him- toward the ice chest he had brought. Hannibal considered himself well versed in taking in everything around him- but not this.
There was a knife in Adonis’ hand as he got onto land, brushing past Hannibal as he cut and gutted the fish- not even bothering to use gloves before putting the fish away with the others he had caught.
Hannibal waited with baited breath, desperately wanting to see what his Adonis would do. Would he try to kill him here? In his domain? Or would he allow Hannibal to see him? To allow Hannibal to be seen in return?
Both of the men were silent as the Adonis went back toward the water to wash the blood off of him. He then turned, tilting his head to the side like Hannibal was prone to do.
“You asked me if I was lost,” The Adonis murmured., breaking the silence.
Hannibal nodded, “I did.”
The Adonis walked closer to Hannibal, the knife still within reach. In his front pocket- where he knew Hannibal could see it.
“I’ve decided on my answer,” The Adonis continued his tortuous walk towards him, getting closer and closer with each step.
It was filling Hannibal with so much anticipation- this dance between them. It made his blood sing- to have found a possible equal.
“Tell me,” Hannibal said, nearly breathless.
The Adonis was now in front of him. A few inches away- both of them sharing the same breath as they looked into each other’s eyes. Oh… the darkness he saw lurking in those eyes.
They called to him like the sirens calling Odysseus' crew. All he had to do was fall. The man just had to say the word.
Hannibal’s gaze fell to the Adonis’ lips, desperately wanting to taste him.
“Not anymore.” The Adonis whispered with a grin.
Hannibal didn’t know who grabbed who first, but suddenly his mouth was on the Adonis’ and it was like the world caved in- leaving no survivors except them. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
It didn’t matter that he didn’t know the man’s name yet- soon they will know everything it is about each other.