Chapter Text
It started innocently. An invitation to dine, nothing more. There was no warning, no hint of malice.. “A dinner at my place?” Hannibal asked passingly following one of their sessions. It wasn’t the first meal Will had shared with his psychiatrist. As smart and analytical as Will was, he failed to realize the true intentions behind this request. What reason did he have to be suspicious of him though? The man he’d trusted with his every thought, his every delusion; The man he regretfully had come to admire.
The bond they shared was confusing at best. Though it wasn’t what Will had initially intended when agreeing to see a psychiatrist, it was becoming much more than the typical doctor-patient relationship. Hannibal accompanied him alongside most of his investigations, helped feed and care for his dogs when he was gone, and just like today, invited him for dinner. To say this was reckless of Dr.Lecter to get this close to a client was an understatement. Extending his presence into Will’s life beyond the confines of his office, past the casualties of their work. Their lives were beginning to intertwine.
His special treatment of Will hadn’t gone unnoticed however. During his current state of crisis, this extra attention seemed to ease him, if only slightly of his ailments. Though he couldn’t be sure of it, Will could only wonder what drove Hannibal to such acts. Outgoing and charismatic when needed, he acted as a remarkable figurehead, bringing forth the attention of any he wished to seize. People enjoyed him wonderfully, but beneath that facade lie a man with no genuine connection. No bonds that strung to him, tying him to the hands of any person.
So why share dinners with pathetic ol’ Will? To deepen his understanding of his unique psyche? Was their relationship nothing but an analytical game? Or was it rather, Hannibal had witnessed something deeper within Will? A similarity that only they shared; A similarity that he would strive so far as to cross the boundaries of their psychiatric relationship, just so that he could possess the invisible link that existed between them both.
It was a stretch, simply the work of Will’s farther than playful imagination. But if this imagination can catch killers, perhaps it can expose the motives of his little dinner date tonight too. He slowed his van, turning into Hannibal’s driveway. A trail of carefully trimmed shrubbery guided him forward, adorning the edges of the pavement. The car parked in front of the entrance, and turning the engine off, he gripped the key into his hand.
Will had looked forward to their dinner, but he couldn’t help but be somewhat nervous; The extravagance of Hannibal’s house was almost threatening. Towering walls of stone, embellished with the lining of dark wooden windows, facing proudly onto the dim streets of Baltimore. It was old and sophisticated, something only the salary of an esteemed psychiatrist could attain. A far cry from Will’s homely abode, whose exterior (though similarly aged) had a much more welcoming atmosphere than the one that stood before him.
Averting his eyes, he stared into the digital clock that illuminated the control panel of his car. Adjusting his coat, he took a deep breath before reassuring himself. “My name is Will Graham, it’s 7:02 pm, I’m in Baltimore Maryland.” He paused for a moment, “And I’m here to have dinner with my psychiatrist... Hannibal Lecter.” Will unbuckled his seatbelt, finally getting out of his car and stepping out onto the pavement. The cold air brushed past him, forcing his hands into his pockets. He fumbled around his keys til he could find its key fob, feeling around its buttons to lock his car. This was it, no turning back now.
The pavement transitioned into a stone path, small blades of grass peeking out between each and every stone. Beyond the shrubbery lay a row of flowers planted along the sides of the home. Some were droopy, haunching over, looking grim towards the soil. They’d begun to wilt as the chill of autumn swept over them. Hannibal ought to put them out of their misery, but perhaps the case may be that he’d rather they live out their final days as nature had intended. Will stepped up the small set of stairs leading up to the two front doors. He inched his hand out from his pocket, hesitantly ringing the doorbell.
Will’s nervousness persisted, listening as the distorted chime echoed throughout the corridors of the home. He felt like a small animal, standing idly before the den of a wolf. He was instinctively aware of the dangers that awaited him, but being a creature so absorbed and curious about this predator, he refused to listen to the warnings that attempted to save him. The distant sound of footsteps soon became clear, as Will’s host approached the door. He took a step back as it opened, and seeing the warm face that greeted him, he felt his nerves begin to calm.
“Good evening Will, come inside.” Hannibal held a small smile as he welcomed Will in. Walking inside he was met with a comforting wave of warmth. The light from above shone a cozy yellow hue against the dark walls, giving the place a pleasant atmosphere; Much different to what the exterior would lead you to presume. “Here, hand me your jacket.” Hannibal held out his hand. Following his instruction, Will shuffled it off before handing it over, where Hannibal hung it atop one of the rods that extended from a dark wooden coat rack that stood beside the door. “Do you own anything besides flannels?” He remarked, pointing out the dark, cyan flannel Will wore.
“They’re comfortable okay...” He sighed, before giving Hannibal an unamused look down. “Do you wear anything besides those suits?” Will retorted. He was wearing a caramel brown suit atop a white undershirt, and a dark tie with an intricate, mesmerizing design. It didn’t really feel like anything special though, this was just what Hannibal always wore.
“I invited you for dinner, it’s more a formal gesture than for the sake of comfort.” Hannibal led him away from the entrance, and towards the dining room. An assortment of floral and nature-esque decor lined the walls. Paintings of animals and scenery, alongside white flowers displayed prominently on glass end tables. “I clothe myself the way I want others to perceive me. An outfit can say a lot about a person.” Looking into the rooms they passed, Will found many more of these decorations. Animal bones and furniture carved to look as if the legs were that of horses, or lamps with stands that resembled vines. Hannibal had a clear affinity towards all things found in nature.
Entering the dining room, Hannibal pulled out a chair from the side of the table, motioning Will towards it. “Have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?” He asked. Will took his seat and was pushed into the table, catching a brief whiff of Hannibal’s cologne. It resembled an old oak, a deep and rich scent that accentuated power. It brought back snippets of memories from forests he used to hike through to find his favorite fishing spots. Before, he would’ve just sat himself, but Hannibal seemed to be really going all out for tonight. It made him feel special. Was this what it was like on the other side of being treated to a date? No, this was nothing like a date... It couldn’t be.
“You got any whiskey?” Will asked, looking up at him from his seat. Hannibal’s hands were still resting on either side of his head upon the back of the chair. Even still in the presence of him, Will felt a sense of vulnerability. Looking at Hannibal from below made the man look much taller in comparison, even if he fully knew the two were only inches apart in height. Like he was in his hands now.
“Of course.” Hannibal removed his hands from Will’s chair and made way to the kitchen, allowing Will a moment to himself. He shoved his fingers through his hair, gripping onto his curls while straining his eyes shut, cursing himself under his breath, low enough that his host wouldn’t take notice: “Fuck, fuck, just stop thinking, god damnnit.” These thoughts that kept invading his mind made him question the most minute details, as if every action taken by Hannibal needed to be analyzed. Though their bond had become to look a lot like a friendship, something else… A deeper feeling had begun to plague his heart. A small hint of romance. Something that should never be introduced into a doctor-patient relationship. But seeing the handsome Hannibal, and being treated so caringly… He couldn’t tell if this was just a newfound longing for companionship, or the confusion of a crumbling psyche.
He did his best to repress the questioning for later. Right now he was going to enjoy his dinner with Hannibal to the best of his ability. No more delusional daydreaming.. Will lowered his hand away from his head and opened his eyes back up. Just as he’d calmed from his sudden self-critique, Hannibal returned with two drinks contained in glass cups. He set down the shorter drink of whiskey in front of Will, before sitting across from him, taking a sip from a tall slender glass of red wine. Knowing Hannibal, these were probably both very expensive to attain.
“Thanks.” Will looked into the glass, admiring its amber shine before taking his own sip, feeling the harsh bite as it sank down his throat. The strong flavor was familiar to him though, and he took it down without any protest. “So when should dinner be ready?” He asked.
“Soon. It’s cooking in the oven as we speak.” Hannibal laid back into his chair, sitting straight up and composed.
“You still haven’t told me what it is yet, you know.”
“Be patient, you’ll get to see for yourself soon enough,” He snickered a little. “Otherwise it’d ruin the surprise.”
“A surprise huh? Alright then… ” Will took another sip, trying to think up a subject to change to. His thoughts felt foggy, it was difficult to think of anything other than Hannibal. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off him, his beautiful ashy brown hair was of particular interest to him. It was cleanly brushed to the side, and looked soft. He felt this overcoming desire to touch it, and to stroke the back of Hannibal’s head. An involuntary itch clawing at his skin. Something was wrong with Will, thinking perverted thoughts of his psychiatrist like this.
Then Hannibal broke the moment of silence for him: “Have you ever considered dating, Will?” He choked on his drink.
“D-Dating?..” The sudden question felt intrusive, as if Hannibal was peering into his mind, dissecting his every thought without him even speaking them. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking could he? By some kind of cruel intuition perhaps?
“I’m sorry, I must’ve caught you off guard,” He apologized. “I was thinking since your encounter with Alana Bloom, the subject might’ve lingered on your mind.”
Oh… Alana Bloom, of course. He sighed both out of relief and embarrassment. “Once or twice,” Will turned away, nervously swinging his drink around, letting the whiskey turn in circles. “I mean I’m in my mid thirties, a man can’t help but wonder once in a while.” He hesitated before taking another sip. “I doubt I’m ready for anything serious though.”
“Do you fear yourself?” Hannibal questions, clasping his hands together onto the table. It felt like they were back in his office, talking out Will’s problems. It only made things feel even more awkward, Will wasn’t looking for therapy he was looking for… Ugh. He was such a fool thinking the two were becoming something else.
“Can’t we just have a normal dinner?” He scoffed. “Tell me about your day, what you’ve been up to, something, anything but therapy.” He knew well what he really wanted out of their conversation, something like a -Have you ever thought about dating me? But he knew that was out of the question. He wanted to play with the idea, let his imagination run freely for a while. At the same time though.. Desperately wanted to distance himself from this fantasy.
Hannibal looked taken aback, a silence plagued the room. Nervousness bled into anxiety, worried he’d just ruined their dinner. Or at the very least, tainted the beginning. “Sure. I apologize, the questions can await our next session.” He readjusted in his seat. “As for my day, it hasn’t been very eventful. I mostly spent it awaiting your arrival.”
“..Sounds boring.”
“Though it was worth it. Doing anything else with my day would’ve only detracted from the highlight of tonight,” Hannibal went on. “It keeps me focused on what’s really important. Balancing life with the mundane and the extraordinary.”
“Would you really call our dinner extraordinary though..?” Will took one last drink of his whiskey, leaving only a miniscule sliver alone at the bottom.
“Of course.” Hannibal moved his wine glass aside before reaching his hands across the table, grabbing both of Will’s palms and raising them up gently. It startled Will, feeling the sudden warmth of Hannibal's hands. They were slightly bigger than his and rougher with age. Being in his grasp… It felt reassuring. “Why else would I invite you then?”
“I don’t know…” He couldn’t avoid Hannibal’s gaze, all he could do was look into his hazel eyes pathetically.
“You and I share something many others don’t get the chance to get,” Hannibal began, though in Will’s ears, it’d seemed like the words had begun to trail off. All the sounds that had encompassed the room began to dim, only silencing further as Hannibal continued with his strange proclamation. “I see what you are, Will..” His view distorted, like his eyes had been glazed with a translucent liquid. The lines between Hannibal and the rest of the room melted together, illustrating an amalgam of colors and shades.
“H.. Hannibal,” Will muttered, growing painfully drowsy. He lost all energy to keep his head up, thinking he’d smack his face right into the table. Before the two would make contact though, Hannibal quickly dropped his hands and reached out for his head instead. He propped him up by his chin, before slowly placing Will down onto the table. He couldn’t see or truly recognize what was going on, but he could feel the warm sensation of Hannibal's palms, before finally passing out. He’d lost all consciousness, and was now subject to any of Dr. Lecter’s whims.