Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Excruciating pain pierces through Hannibal’s skull as he wakes from falling off the cliff. The sun peeks through the dark curtains, casting a warm glow directly at him. He winces covering his eyes, feeling something heavy and cold on his finger. Hannibal opens them, seeing a scar-ridden hand that’s a little larger than his and a silver wedding band wrapped around his finger.

I have kept my hands in pristine condition for as long as I can remember, how can this be?

The sound of screaming outside his door makes him frown and prompts him to get out of bed. He lifts the blanket to see an atrocious Christmas sweater paired with a sort of military-type grey jogging pants. The door slams open, and an attractive young man with disheveled brunette hair walks into the room. Shirtless and wearing similar jogging pants as his. Hannibal watches as the man gently closes the door and quickly walks toward him. He plops on the space beside Hannibal, lifts the blanket, and curls toward him.

“Your daughter is insufferable sometimes. Just because I’m a few years older than her and Bodashka doesn’t mean she can disrespect me like that. I just really wanted my cup of coffee.” The man huffs, cupping Hannibal’s face and planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

“My… daughter?” A flashback of Abigail’s and Mischa’s smiling faces crosses his mind, making him recoil from the man’s touch. The man falls forward on the bed and stares up at him, confused

“Markus?” He asks with those bright blue eyes, reminding Hannibal of Will’s. Hannibal’s chest tightens as the man reaches out, gently gripping his collar and pushing him on his back with unexpected strength. He easily restrains him with his small hand like he’s done it before and bumps his forehead with Hannibal’s.

“Your name is Markus Hansen. You’re currently in Denmark, lying down with Jack Ganzer, your partner, at ten in the morning. Baby, take deep breaths with me.” The man inhales a heap of air.

“What-”

Jack closes his eyes, breathing out and pressing his fingers on Hannibal’s wrists and straddling him.

A grounding technique for patients with post-traumatic stress disorder… Where am I?

“Markus… please. I need you to listen to my voice.” Jack firmly whispers with an evident crack in the timbre of his voice. Hannibal curiously studies Jack’s face. He has the same chiseled jaw as Will, and the same curly hair too. With stubble, he can actually look like Will. Hannibal cups Jack’s nape, rubbing soothing circles to lessen the tension. Jack opens his eyes, and a hopeful glint reflects in them.

“I’m not having an episode, Jack. I’m Merely disoriented is all.”

The hopeful look turns into a frown as Jack leans back, staring intently at his partner. “Baby, are you sure you’re not having an episode? You sound… different.”

Hannibal gulps as saliva builds in his throat.

Why am I feeling anxious? Situations like these are a walk in the park for me.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling under the weather,” Hannibal replies, hoping it appeases Jack.

Jack fondly sighs as the door of the bedroom opens, revealing Otto and Mathilde.

How do I know their names?

“Oh my god! Get a room!” Mathilde squeals, covering her eyes.

“We are in one, Mathilde. You’re the one barging in here unannounced,” Jack replies with a smirk.

“Fuck you!”

“I’d rather not. I’m already doing that with your father.” Jack’s ass wiggles on Hannibal’s lap, eliciting a reaction he thought would never happen again except in Will’s presence.

A crude fellow, I have not encountered one in a while. And yet this body seems to adore his antics.

“Stop it! Both of you.” Otto scolds, stepping in front of Mathilde. Everyone in the room turns a shade of red before Otto speaks again,

“Mathilde, you said you wanted to say something to Jack?” Otto prompts, nodding at the young girl. Hannibal smiles, her golden locks reminding him of Mischa’s… she could look like his sister if she was given the opportunity to grow up. Hannibal licks his chapped lips.

Mathilde glances at the curly-haired man with eyeglasses and a disfigured arm… or was it his hand?

These are blurry eyes due to old age. Is this my future if I live that long?

Otto motions for her to continue, making Mathilde sigh deeply and clench her fists. “I’m sorry, Ganzer. It’s just… you only started dating Papa nine months ago and now you’re living with us. It’s a lot to take in with my mom dying three years ago and the moka pot… my mom used to brew coffee with that and it felt like…” Mathilde begs Otto with her eyes, but he shakes his head at her. “It felt like you were replacing her and you’re just a few years older than me. I’m sorry for being petty… You can use the moka pot for your coffee.” Mathilde breathes, her palms opening.

The weight lifts from Hannibal and Jack’s form stands tall in front of him. Hannibal’s eyes trail Jack’s lithe body until he lands on Jack’s bum; it’s incredibly plump and the jogging pants make sure to emphasize it. Definitely reminds him of Will.

“As you should. Depriving people of coffee, especially if it’s their lifeline, is rude.” Jack pauses, inserting his hands into his pocket, and closes his eyes. “I want to assure you, I won’t replace your mom. I technically can’t cause I have a di-”

Hannibal pinches Jack’s side and glares at him when he turns to look at him. Jack glares back and replies,

“But I appreciate the apology and I’m sorry too for teasing you about your size… You’re really cute, Mathilde. Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

Mathilde chuckles, smiling at Otto and Markus. “Oh, aside from the apology, I wanted to tell you guys that breakfast is finished. Bodashka cooked smørrebrød. It’ll pair well with your coffee. Will you join us, papa?”

Hannibal sits up, caressing his stiff nape. “Yes, I’d like that. Would you also heat up the hot pack, please? My neck is a bit sore.” Three sets of astounded eyes stare at Hannibal, making him slightly nervous. “Have I said something amiss?”

Jack blinks, pinching his cheek and hissing. “Baby, you've been acting weird since you woke up. You don't usually sound so… courteous. Are you okay?”

“I’m fi-” Hannibal feels his lips pursed as his body moves on its own accord and he watches as if in the third person. His big arms wrap around Jack and he buries his beard-covered chin on the man's exposed shoulder. “Shut up, Ganzer . I'm hungry. Let's go have breakfast.” Hannibal lifts Jack on his shoulder, grins as the man whines and punches his back then laughs. Hannibal tries to reel his body back into his control but to no avail. The weight and punches burn his back, but the body easily carries the young man out of the room and follows Mathilde and Otto. Hannibal struggles to take control but mentally grips the nerves attached to the eyes and roams the walls with photos.

The pictures depict a girl; from school plays to ball catching, the little girl grows into the woman before him. Hannibal’s heart clenches tenfold as he thinks about his daughters . He puts Jack down, making the man stop squealing, and stares at him curiously. “Markus?”

Hannibal attempts to move his lips, but another voice comes out. “I’ll follow you in a few. I just… I need to use the bathroom.”

Jack frowns at him but nods and quickly walks away.

A splitting headache suddenly pierces Hannibal’s skull as he rushes into the bathroom and closes it behind him. He takes big strides toward the sink and wipes his nose as scarlet stains it. He lifts his head forcefully and an ill-tempered expression reflects back to him.

“Who the fuck are you?” The reflection growls, glaring at Hannibal.

Hannibal’s own smooth voice comes out of the same mouth, replying, “I could ask you a similar question.” The hands grip the sink as a throbbing starts behind his eyes.

“You’re fucking with my head and my family. Get out.” Markus hits his head with his wrists, making Hannibal and Markus hiss simultaneously.

“Kindly refrain from striking our temple. I would like to live through next week.” Hannibal requests, trying to take control of Markus’ hands

“Get out then. I don’t need another personality fucking up my life.” Markus snarls, digging his nails into their temple.

“ Markus ,” Hannibal snaps. Markus glares at him through the mirror. A veneer of Hannibal’s form before the fall fleetingly crosses both men’s eyes. Markus breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring. He licks his lips and grips the sink again. “I am not another personality. I am a being just like yourself and as confused as you are.”

Markus’ breathing is the only thing heard in the bathroom. “Is this permanent?”

Hannibal bites their lip. “I hope not. I would like to go back to my own body.”

Markus frowns at Hannibal, skeptical. “Like I said earlier, who the fuck are you?”

Hannibal visualizes the nerve endings in Markus’ right hand and forces it to lie on their chest. “Hannibal Lecter, psychiatrist. I presume you are a soldi-”

“Retired.” Markus corrected, taking control of his body and patting his pockets for a smoke. He’s getting agitated by the minute.

Hannibal’s eye twitches at the interruption. “The members of your household are loud and crass. I am peeved.”

Markus clicks their tongue to the roof of their mouth. “I don’t fucking care. They’re my family , not yours.” An ache engulfs their heart as Hannibal’s regret slowly seeps in. Markus finds his cigarette and lighter in his back pocket. Markus taps the packet on the edge of the sink, taking a cig.

Hannibal scans the packet seeing it’s a Lucky Strike. He grimaces as Markus lifts the stick to his lips and struggles to light it. Hannibal was actively sabotaging the nerve endings of Markus’ hand to stop him from smoking the atrociously cheap cigarette.

“Let go of my hand,” Markus commands, flicking his left hand. His fingers finally function and he lights the cigarette. He sighs in relief as he puffs in smoke. It goes straight to his lungs and he breathes it out through his nose with a lingering bitter aftertaste.

Hannibal internally gags at the cheap aftertaste of the cigarette, unsatisfied. But the nicotine does its job in easing their nerves. “Are you quite finished? I would like to return to figuring out our dilemma.”

Markus ignores Hannibal and takes another puff. He looks Hannibal straight in the eye and blows on the mirror as if blowing smoke on the man himself. Hannibal snarls in disdain then flicks the cigarette toward the ground and snuffs it out.

“What the fuck?! Those aren’t cheap!”

“They are cheap and I do not care. You got your nicotine fix. I would like to explore this world and see if I can find clues as to how this came to be.”

Markus lifts his hand and slaps himself and in turn, Hannibal. The stinging grounds him just as Jack’s voice faintly scolds them,

“Markus! Goddamn it, you’re smoking in the bathroom again!”

Hannibal sighs, turning to look back at the mirror. “Kindly refrain from harming our body. You may be numb to pain, but I would rather not feel it.”

“Stay away from my family. I don’t want them questioning my behavior as it is.”

Hannibal hums, smirking. “Is your need for control increasing, Markus? Feeling the spiral you felt when you realized your wife’s death was an accident?”

Markus growls, dropping the cigarette and leaning his head back. Hannibal has no time to react as their forehead hits the mirror, shattering it to pieces. For a split second, Hannibal sees a glimpse of water from the fall before he comes back to Markus’ body. Searing pain and gushing blood numb his senses as he sees himself and Markus in the various shards of glass.

“How the fuck did you know about my wife? Did you walk around in my head and violate my privacy like how you violated Will?”

Hannibal’s heart stops momentarily at the call out. They both have access to each other’s memories and this terrifies him.

“Cat got your tongue, cannibal ?”

Hannibal glares at Markus’ reflection as the retired soldier grins.

“You know my innermost being then, Markus… What would you like to do about it?”

“I don’t give a shit about all that. We’ve all gone through traumatic experiences. I just want to spend my remaining time on earth with my daughter and Jack.”

Hannibal sadly smiles, pushing them to lean on the refurbished bathtub. “You are blessed to have such a family despite their rowdiness.”

A rare chuckle echoes in the bathroom as Markus reaches for his cigarette packet. The door bangs open, revealing a worried-looking Jack with Lennart holding a pick-lock set.

“Lennart, tell them to finish their breakfast and to take a walk.”

“But-”

“Go!” Jack orders, grabbing one of the towels in the rack and picking up the bloodied shards. Lennart nods and quickly disappears just as Hannibal feels the body move on its own and helps Jack pick up the shards. Jack hisses, cutting himself on a fragment. Hannibal’s hand immediately leaves the pieces he’s holding and cradles Jack’s hand, examining it. The young man attempts to pull it away, but Markus is stronger.

“Stop moving, kæreste. I don’t want you to have an infection.”

“You’re one to talk. Look at that gash on your head,” Jack snaps, glaring at the wound.

Listen to your kæreste. His wound is not that deep, ours is.

Markus sighs, using his arm to move the shards to one side and attempting to get the antiseptic from the cupboard.

“Babe, stop!” Jack hisses, pulling Markus back by the collar and making both of them fall to the floor that had no glass shards. Markus takes the brunt of the fall and groans as his lower back starts to ache.

“You didn’t have to be so rough with me. We’re not in the bedroom.” Markus smirks as red blossoms from Jack’s cheeks and trails down his neck.

“Shut up. You can’t… damn it. Don’t flirt with me when you’re injured. I can’t concentrate. Stay still.” Jack kneels, grabs another towel, and opens the faucet for hot water. He runs the towel under the water before closing it and dabbing the soft material on Markus’s head. The older man hisses, pulling away from Jack. Cupping his face, Jack forces Markus to stay in place. “Keep still or I’m dousing your head with antiseptic.”

Hannibal forces Markus to stop moving.

Stop using my body.

I would love to, but we are attached at the hip, Markus.

Jack reaches for the cupboard with the antiseptic and brings out the vial before gently pouring it on Markus’ gash. Markus and Hannibal hiss, gripping Jack’s waist.

“Careful, soldier. You might make my hip bruise. Can’t have the family thinking you’re being violent , again,” Jack teases, earning him a glare from his lover. Jack caresses the cut and peppers the surrounding area with pecks.

Markus leans into Jack’s touch, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his head on his lap. Jack chuckles, preparing three pieces of steri-strips.

Hannibal internally winces at the soft gesture the couple share. His chest clenches, making Markus hold onto Jack tighter as a reaction. Hannibal hasn’t been genuinely soft with anyone, not after Mischa… not after Will. Right now, Hannibal yearns to be back in WIll’s presence. To hold him like this, cradle his head in his lap as they sat by his fireplace in his Baltimore home.

Quit whining and figure out a way to get back to him then. For fucks sake, you’re incredibly sappy like a girl.

Hannibal internally glares at Markus but acknowledges the weight of his words.

I am not entirely sure how our situation works, but I have an inkling that stepping into your shoes may be the answer… May I live with you until we sort this out?

Markus ruminates the idea just as Jack leans down and kisses his lips. The contrast of chapped and smooth lips makes Hannibal ache for Will.

Just don’t be fucking sappy then I’ll allow it. Fix the way you speak, I don’t want them to worry. My family needs a strong man to keep them together. Don’t even try to insult Emmentaler or Lennart and Bodshaka’s relationship. And don’t… don’t sleep with Jack for the days you remain here. I’ll allow kissing and masturbation but do not sleep with him.

Hannibal nods as control of Markus’ body comes back to him. Markus hovers over his consciousness like a blanket. Hannibal cups Jack’s cheek, kissing him deeper. He’s going to take everything he can get from his stay here. Jack moans, allowing Hannibal to slip his tongue in and explore his mouth. He tastes of maple syrup and bacon. They were having a fatty breakfast. Hannibal needs to fix that. He licks Jack’s lips and pulls away, leaning their foreheads together.

“Wow… I’m usually the one doing the exploration,” Jack gasps, rubbing circles on Hannibal’s cheek.

Hannibal merely grins, getting up and cleaning the rest of the shards. Jack joins him as a familiar comfortable silence falls on them. Jack leaves the room and comes back with scrap papers to wrap the shards in. They throw them in the bin and Jack assists Hannibal to his feet.

“You taste like smoke, but the maple syrup and bacon countered that. I always love how different we are,” Jack muses, holding Hannibal’s hand and kissing it. Hannibal smiles, ruffling Jack’s bed hair. Jack swats his hand away. “Stop, I know I’m younger, but don’t do that.”

“Sorry, you’re too cute,” Hannibal replies, cringing at his usage of language.

Jack blushes, looking away from Hannibal. They enter the dining room to see everyone waiting for them. Jack pinches his nose, knowing full well that they would do this. “Of course, you don’t listen. Now the food is cold.”

“We don’t mind. We like having meals with you and Papa.” Mathilde replies, tapping the seat beside her. Her face morphs into Mischa’s then Abigail’s momentarily, making Hannibal grip Jack’s hand for grounding.

Jack leads Hannibal to his seat and takes his own on the other side. “Let’s eat then! What do you guys have planned for today?”

Hannibal stays silent for the rest of the meal, observing the family. Mathilde had practice for the softball team. Lennart and Bodshaka were doing the family’s grocery run. Emmentaler is going on surveillance, they were still the target of gangs in the area after the mishap three years ago. Otto was going to catch up on his reading.

“Baby, are you in there?” Jack calls, waving a hand in front of Hannibal. Hannibal blinks, staring at Jack.

“Hmmm?”

“I said, did you want to accompany me to shop for clothes? I’m going to a thrift store outside of town.”

Hannibal shakes his head, turning to look at Mathilde. “I’ll go with Mathilde. I haven’t spent time with her in a while.”

Jack playfully pouts, leaning on his hand on the table. “Now I’m just jealous. I’ll probably be outside town for a while. Come pick me up after Mathilde’s practice?”

“You’re paying for snacks after?” Mathilde asks, smirking.

Jack laughs heartily, kissing Hannibal’s cheek and taking their plates to the sink. “If I don’t spend too much at the thrift store. I’m buying you something too. What are you, size 30 for pants?”

Mathilde rolls her eyes, taking her plate and Otto’s to the sink as well. “Haha, very funny, sugar baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jack replies spitefully.

“You started it.” Mathilde challenges.

“Enough. After Mathilde’s practice, we’ll pick you up, Jack. Satisfied?”

Jack’s expression quickly shifts to a flirty one as he gives Hannibal a flying kiss. “Very. I’m going to go change now.” He winks, inviting Hannibal back to their room. Hannibal smirks, rising from his chair, only to have Markus take control of his body and grip the chair.

I told you not to sleep with Jack.

Masturbation wasn’t off the table, Markus.

Fuck you.

We could, with Jack.

Markus tightens his hold on the chair, keeping Hannibal in place.

Jealousy looks good on you. Let out some steam with your lover.

Markus internally growls, feeling his pants tighten. He’s not going to let himself be tempted like this, not when Jack is involved and this third person gets to watch… experience Jack’s body. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

Stop tempting me, psychiatrist. I won’t allow you to use my body any longer if you continue.

The threat stops Hannibal’s antics.

Apologies… I am feeling regret and nostalgia for Will. Your lover reminds me of him.

A flash of Will’s smirk while Hannibal was incarcerated appears before their eyes. Markus has to admit that Hannibal’s significant other has a devious charm to him. Markus feels himself leak through his jogging pants. He didn’t exactly wear any underwear as they were just at home.

It seems we have a type.

I don’t care. Stay away from Jack.

Hannibal internally raises his hands in surrender as Markus tries to calm himself. “Bodshaka, wash the dishes. I’ll take over your duties tonight,” Markus commands with a strained voice. He quickly follows Jack and wraps an arm around his waist, pushing him into the room and pinning him against the door.

“Mmm, making quick work on my invitation then?” Jack grins, spreading his legs wider as he tries to free his wrists. Markus leans his forehead on Jack’s as his dick twitches and hardens. His hold loosens and Jack’s hand immediately wraps around Markus’ waist and palms his jogging pants. Jack moans, loving the feel of his lover.

“Will you fuck me against the wall, Markus? Our family is still outside.” Jack hoarsely whispers.

“Don’t… Don’t tempt me, Jack.” Markus replies, blocking out Hannibal from his eyes. Jack is a beauty. His disheveled hair paired with his flushed cheeks,  puckered lips, and erect nipples.

God, I love you.

“Why not?” Jack purrs, attempting to slither his hand into Markus’ pants. Markus wraps his calloused fingers around Jack’s wrist and holds his hand instead.

He’s watching, I can’t let him see you like this . You’re

“mine,” Markus breathes, thrusting his hips towards Jack and feeling his lover’s hard-on as well. “Fuck… wrap your legs around me.” He cups Jack’s ass and lifts him as the younger man wraps his legs around his waist. Markus crashes his lips into Jack’s moaning as the young man slips his tongue into his mouth and entwines them. He rubs their erections together at a steady pace, uncaring of the loud sounds the household could hear. Markus needs this, a last clutch for control before he surrenders to Hannibal. He knows the entity would stay awhile, he may as well enjoy his time with Jack before being taken over.

Ah, your strength is one I envy. Ah, the salacious sounds coming from your lover are quite arousing.

“ Markus, I ’m cumming,” Jack moans as he feels himself cum in his boxers and Markus soils himself as well, inhaling Jack’s scent. He bites Jack’s neck, leaving a hickey as he feels himself slowly relinquishing control.

I will care for them as if they were my family. Fret not, Markus Hansen. I keep my word.

Hannibal licks his lips, breathing heavily as he struggles to keep Jack up. He gently guides his legs down and licks the sweat off his brow.

“Wow… That felt more intense than usual,” Jack whispers, kissing the edge of Hannibal’s lip and slipping away. “Don’t follow me in the bathroom.”

Hannibal nods, patting his chest to calm his heart.

Markus?

Only a grunt replies as his consciousness is wrapped like a blanket once again. Hannibal walks toward the dresser and grabs the most decent thing he can find, brown pants, a white shirt, and a blue turtleneck jacket. He pulls a piece from the wet wipes by the side table and pulls down his pants, wiping Markus’ softening dick. Hannibal discards the tissue in the bin and the joggers in the basket before wearing boxers and the rest of the clothing he picked out. He searches the dresser for perfume to wear, but only one bottle is there. He frowns, examining it.

“This is new. Are you really interested in perfumes now?” Jack teases, getting out of the bathroom and wearing a towel around his torso. He jumps on the bed and hugs Hannibal from behind, but Hannibal slips away. He stands up, shaking his head.

“I wanted to see if you needed any refills. Go get dressed, I’ll see you outside.” Hannibal kisses Jack’s cheek and quickly walks out of the room. He reaches the living room to see Otto and Mathilde playing chess. “Who’s winning?”

Both adults look up, smirking at Hannibal. His cheeks heat up; it’s Markus’ reaction. “Otto, but I think I’m close to cracking him,” Mathilde admits just as Otto flicks her king with his bishop.

“I think I won, Mathilde.” Otto grins, patting Mathilde’s head. Hannibal’s heart clenches once again as he remembers doing the same gesture to both Mischa and Abigail.

“Fair. I’ll beat you next time.” Mathilde stands from her position and pats down the creases of her jogging pants. “I’m ready. Have you said goodbye to Ganzer?”

Hannibal tilts his head curiously at the question.

Was I supposed to?

Yes, Jack needs reassurance that you’ll come back.

Another flash of memory from before the fall clouds their eyes: Will sweating in Hannibal’s dining area and begging him not to lie as Abel Gideon sat across them. Hannibal blinks and it’s gone, but the pang stays. He walks back into the room and finds Jack pulling his shirt above his head. There were some bruises there, prompting Hannibal to walk towards him and caress them. Jack shivers, quickly pulling down the shirt and turning to stop his hand.

“Don’t. I already forgave you for giving me these when you had your episode last week.” Jack brings Hannibal’s chilly hands to his cheek instead, warming them up. “And your hands are cold. Did you bring mittens with you?”

Hannibal shakes his head, making Jack smile fondly at him. Jack reaches behind him and takes out a pair of mittens. He wears it on Hannibal’s hands and kisses each palm. “There, you’re warm now. I’ll take the bus so you won’t need to drive me. Pick me up at 5 pm?”

Hannibal merely nods, at a loss for words.

Would Will be this sweet if we were given the chance to live out our lives?

“Don’t be long.” Jack pecks Hannibal’s lips and reaches down to take the brown messenger bag. Hannibal watches as the man leaves the room and gives him a flying kiss. “Love you!” He hollers before walking away.

Hannibal licks his lips, sucking in a deep breath before walking out as well. Mathilde tosses the keys toward him and he catches them with ease. “Nice catch, papa. Can we go now? I’m about to be late.” Hannibal follows the girl, curious to see how Markus and she got along. They get into the car and Hannibal starts the car. The drive was mostly silent with Mathilde looking out the window.

“How’s college?” Hannibal glances at Mathilde who frowns at him.

“Small talk, really, papa?”

Hannibal stays silent, giving Mathilde space to answer. She sighs, a small smile appearing on her features. “I’ve made friends if that’s what you’re asking. You can even ask Jack since he’s famous with the ladies there.”

A snarl escapes Hannibal’s lips as Markus’ jealousy peeks through. Mathilde laughs, looking out the window again. “He’s a cook there, papa. Of course, the ladies see him every day. He makes sure to tell them that he’s taken through.”

Hannibal feels his chest at ease as he nods in understanding. “Has anyone bullied you since you shifted?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions today. You usually just drive me to practice.” Mathilde comments, raising a brow at Hannibal. Hannibal glances at the rearview mirror and sees Markus sitting in the back seat, giving him a disapproving look.

Get your act together, Lecter. You’re going to blow our cover. It’s only the first day.

Hannibal glares at the mirror, ignoring Markus’ words.

“Papa!” Mathilde yells as Hannibal blinks, swerving back to the main road to avoid an oncoming truck. “Are you even fit to drive?”

Hannibal hums, rubbing his hand on Markus’ bald head. “Don’t challenge me, Mathilde. I was merely distracted.”

“A distraction that could’ve cost us our life,” Mathilde mumbles, making Hannibal frown at her.

Your daughter is as rude as you are.

I tried my best with her, but her mother raised her. You’d understand if you had a daughter of your own.

Hannibal grips the steering wheel tighter as they near the baseball field.

Right, you don’t have one. You killed her as a pathetic clutch for balance when your lover rejected you.

A loud beeping reels Hannibal back into reality as he again avoids an oncoming car in the parking lot. Hannibal swerves, making Mathilde squeal. Markus takes control of his right hand and grips the armrest; protecting Mathilde. Hannibal controls the care and parks in an empty spot. Mathilde grips the seatbelt and glares at Hannibal. 

“What the hell?!” Mathilde gasps, unbuckling her seatbelt when the car stops. “I thought you actually changed in three years, especially when you met Jack. But you’re as reckless as before! I hate you!” She opens her door, reaches for her bag in the back seat, and slams the door behind her. Hannibal sighs and stares daggers at the rearview mirror.

Great, now you’ve angered her. Why the fuck did you even choose to go with her? We could’ve gone with Jack or tinkered away in the barn house with Emmentaler.

Quiet, Hansen.

Fuck you, you’re as messed up as I am if not worse.

I said, quiet. I wanted to know what it feels like to have an actual daughter… As you said, I killed mine.

Hannibal’s ragged breathing fills the car. Markus has the decency to look guilty through the mirror.

It wasn’t your fault that your sister died. I’ve seen bad people raid and pillage places, you just happen to be in the right place at the wrong time.

Hannibal raises a brow at Markus. “Nothing happened to Mischa, I happened.”

“Keep telling yourself that and you’ll never accept the sin of killing Abigail for your pettiness.”

Hannibal’s brow twitches as he glares at Markus.

“Much like how you accepted that your wife’s death had nothing to do with the Danish mob?”

Markus growls, punching their nose. The bone cracks. Blood trickles down Hannibal’s nose as both of them relive the scene in Hannibal’s kitchen. A flood of anguish and grief engulfs them as tears begin to fall from their eyes.

“Apologize to Mathilde. She deserves that much after you almost crashed and made her meet her mother.”

Hannibal’s lips twitch in disdain as he fixes their nose. “That was in poor taste, Markus.”

“You’ll understand when you become a father. She only started opening up to me when Jack arrived. You’re ruining my chances of reconnecting with my daughter .”

Hannibal bit the inside of their cheek. Markus knew where to pierce his being like an actual father would. He didn’t exactly have a father figure growing up and this felt incredibly foreign.

“I’m not fathering you. I already have to do that for the bunch of misfits I have at home. But what I will do is make you realize your sins against the daughter you lost. Get your ass out there and apologize to mine. Maybe you’ll realize how much you’ve romanticized having a child.”

Hannibal seethes with anger at the last statement, but internalizes it and cuts the ignition. He keeps the key and opens the door, slamming it shut much like Mathilde did. He ambles toward the field, watching Mathilde practice throwing the ball. Hannibal takes a seat by the stands and observes Mathilde’s interaction with her peers.

Two females were already picking on her, but Mathilde stood her ground, glaring at them with as much ferocity as Markus. They back down just as another girl comes into the picture and Mathilde’s expression changes into one of fondness as she jokes and smiles with her. Mathilde glances his way and a small smile crosses her face as she waves momentarily and goes back to concentrating on practice. In a moment of weakness from the lack of intimacy, Hannibal reminisces about his time playing with Mischa and preparing meals with Abigail. A longing for things gone takes over him, making him touch both eyes to prevent himself from crying.

~~~~~⭐~~~~~

They walk back to the car in silence. A million questions arise in Hannibal’s head at how easily Mathilde forgave his reckless behavior. The click of Mathilde’s seat belt breaks the stillness.

“I’m sorry.”

Mathilde turns to look at Hannibal, blinking. “I’m sorry too… I don’t entirely hate you… I just resent that you still have episodes like that.”

Hannibal frowns, glancing at Markus in the rearview mirror. The older man nods, encouraging him to speak.

“Was it my PTSD that got you to react like that?”

Mathilde bit her lip, looking away. “I don’t want to lose to you too, but you infuriate me sometimes… you only talk to Jack about your feelings and I get that you love him, but I’m your flesh and blood. Talk to me too.”

Astounded, Hannibal instinctively reaches for Mathilde’s hand and squeezes it. For a moment, she looks like Mischa if she got to grow old. He pats her head too. “I apologize for my lack of tact in these circumstances. I am still trying to navigate and connect with you after our years apart… You grew up well despite my not being here.”

Mathilde is tongue-tied, processing the unfamiliar tone and words coming out of her father’s mouth. “You… You’re… oh my god, is there something wrong?” She touches Hannibal’s forehead with the back of her hand, but it isn’t as hot as she expects. “You’re not sick or dying, are you? Why do you sound so… kind.”

Hannibal smiles sadly at the girl and pulls her to his chest, hugging her to hide the tears brimming in his eyes. “No, no, I’m not. I just feel sentimental today.” A truth without omission. Markus’ phone rings and Hannibal sniffs, reaching for it. “Hello?”

“Markus! Hi. I missed you, did you miss me?” Jack’s voice rings through the speaker as Mathilde pulls away and wipes her tears.

Hannibal hums in reply to continue acting like Markus. He looks back at the mirror, seeing a satisfied smile on Markus’ face. Hannibal internally rolls his eyes as he tunes back into Jack’s rambling.

“I found you a perfume I think you’ll like! Also, I got Mathilde a better sports bag. The one she has is about to give out. Hmmm, what else do I have…” Shuffling is heard in the background as Hannibal smiles fondly, turning on the ignition.

“ Hey, pretty boy. You’ve got a lot of bags to carry. Want us to help you? ”

Hannibal frowns, a familiar rage bubbling on the surface. He reverses the car and drives out of the parking lot and toward the thrift store Jack mentioned.

“Baby, I’ll call you back. I’m at Gerry’s just on the outlier of to-”

“ He can’t come to the phone right now, Markus. Best to call later. ”

The line dies and it takes all of Hannibal’s strength to stop Markus from throwing the phone out the window. He speeds through some stop lights and finally gets to the mentioned store in half an hour. “Wait here.” Hannibal orders, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and quickly searching for the young man.

For fucks sake, not this again. We really should’ve just gone with him.

Why are you adamant to get to him?

Because he gets into these situations frequently. I’d rather not have my fiance raped.

Hannibal coughs, choking on his own spit.

Does your family know?

No, I haven’t even proposed. Now shut up and search.

Hannibal nods, catching a glimpse of the brown satchel he saw this morning. He stops in his tracks and takes five steps back to see an alleyway with five men crowding one Jack Ganzer. Bloodied lip, a matching gash on his head, deadly stare; he’s a splitting image of Will Graham as they killed the Dragon.

Stop lusting over him. I will push you so far up my mind, you won’t be able to feel anything.

Hannibal ignores the threat and takes quick strides toward the crowd.

“Come on, pretty boy. Give us the satchel. We know you have a Timex watch and golden bands in there. If not, we’ll take it from you by force .”

One of the men pulls on Jack’s hair, making him hiss. Jack spits on the guy’s face. “Fuck you. I won’t give you anything. I can take you all on.” He barks, seeing Hannibal approach. A relieved glint in his eye appears as he raises his fists to protect his face.

“That can be arranged. Boys, hold him down.” The men get closer to Jack, driving him up against the wall.

“Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The ring leader scowls, getting into Jack’s personal space. “Why is that?”

“My husband is the jealous type and he’s standing right behind you. He’s ex-military too if you want to go up against a certified killer.” Jack proudly states with a grin.

All five men turn to look at Hannibal. One cowers in fear and leaves while the rest contemplate what to do.

“He’s an old man. He can’t do shit.”

Hannibal grips the nape of one of the assailants and headbutts him, his wound reopening. A little trickle of blood flows down his face as the person faints and three of them take a step back. “I suggest you leave before I call the cops.”

The three men run out of the alleyway, leaving their two comrades unconscious. Hannibal lets go of the man and watches him collapse to the ground. He feels small arms wrap around him from behind.

“You always come in time,” Jack mumbled against Hannibal’s back.

“I have to, kæreste.” Hannibal’s mouth moves on its own accord; Markus takes over.

Jack laughs heartily and tightens his hold. “I really did buy us rings by the way. I didn’t want you to spend too much money on me.”

“I know. You can stand on your own feet. I’ll only spoil you when you allow me to,” Markus replies, turning around and hugging Jack. He nuzzles his head and kisses the top of his mop. “Your lip is bleeding. Do you have any antiseptics on you?”

Jack shakes his head, burying himself further into his lover’s arms.

Dear me…. I have to survive the love between the two of you.

Fuck you.

You could, but Jack has to be there.

I can’t wait for you to leave.

~~~~~⭐~~~~~

It’s been nine days since Hannibal got to this timeline. Three realizations he’s had to stay here.

One, Mischa’s death was not on him. He was in the right place at the wrong time.

Two, his action of killing Abigail was his alone. It was his pettiness and grief that drove him to do that.

Three, he wants to get out of here because Markus’ family is suffocating and he misses Will dearly.

Markus made sure to ingrain these three truths into Hannibal’s head as they spent time with Mathilde and Jack. Family, as Hannibal understands now, is chosen. His was taken away from him. But these people, despite that fact, chose to stick together and meet each other’s needs.

Speaking of need, Hannibal has been true to his word of not touching Jack, and now… well, the culmination of all the tension build-up. Thankfully, everyone at home had other things to do so only Hannibal, Markus, and Jack were home.

“Why aren't you sleeping with me? I thought you were past your homophobia. Turns out, I was wrong.” Jack snaps, rising from his seat on the couch and attempting to walk away. Markus takes control of his body and catches Jack’s wrist. Jack pulls on it, glaring at Markus.

“Let me fucking go. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

“Marry me,” Markus blurts out, kneeling on one knee.

Jack looks down, blinking at him. “Are you just saying that to make me stay? You told me you weren’t ready just three yesterday. I swear if this is a fucking joke-”

“It’s not… You are the most infuriating young man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Jack snorts. Markus takes a breath, looking down at his reflection on the glass table.

How impulsive of you, Hansen. You do not even have anything particularly prepared for this encounter.

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t care? Markus, what the hell are you talking about?”

Markus internally strangles Hannibal with his mind. By the third day, they were able to connect enough that each of them could visualize the other in their head, creating a semblance of a mind palace that the other could dwell in as per Hannibal.

“I don’t care about what I said yesterday. This is me, today and far into the future, reassuring you that I want to marry you, you anxious young man.”

Jack huffs at the insult, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “I’m still on the fence, you homophobic asshole. You’ve been so cold to me since we got home last week.”

Markus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is all your fault,” Markus mumbles to Hannibal.

“My fault?! I just told you-”

Markus pulls Jack down to his level and pushes him on his back, covering his mouth. “Not you, kæreste… Fuck me. This is still hard for me to comprehend and explain.”

Jack chuckles, licking Markus’ palm. The older man grimaces and wipes his hand on his pants. “I know I’m dumb, Markus. But seeing you struggle like this is the most sincere thing I have seen from you and you’re incredibly cute so I’ll take what I can… you promise it’s not homophobia that’s stopping you from sleeping with me again?”

Markus smiles in relief and eagerly nods. “I wouldn’t be with you if I still had internalized homophobia… I really do want to marry you, Jack Ganzer.”

Jack grins, wrapping his fingers around Markus’ nape, and pulls him down. Their lips touch at a slow and sweet pace, savoring their newfound engagement.

“I love you and I will marry you… but please, can we fuck now?”

I’ll leave you be. You deserve private time together. Thank you for allowing me to step in your shoes and assisting me in accepting parts of myself… especially regarding Mischa and Abigail. I truly do appreciate it.

Markus only replies with a grunt, too focused on his lover. Hannibal smiles, enjoying the feel of Jack’s soft lips before taking a back seat. He yawns, closing his eyes. Hannibal feels himself getting incredibly tired, his energy seeping away into the wind as moans echo in his ears.

When he wakes, a gust of chills his bones. He frowns, opening his eyes to a pitch-black cabin with a warm body draped on his chest. He attempts to move, but the body on top of him wakes and calls out a name,

“Mmmm, Duncan, is your back hurting again?”

Chapter Text

Wailing wakes Will from his slumber. He sits up from an unfamiliar bed and roams the room for the source of the crying. He spots a cradle and immediately jumps out of bed, quickly walking towards it. Will looks down and the cutest, smallest baby stares up at him, crying his eyes out. He bites his lip, unable to move. A human child lays before him and all he can think about is if he’s worthy to touch him. But instincts won, he cradles the baby like he’s done it before and coos at him.

“Daddy is here, don’t you worry. Are you hungry, BB? Maybe a diaper change?” Unfamiliar words come out of his mouth as Will lifts the babe and smells his bum. No indications for a diaper change so he gently rocks him instead. The cries die down and Will smiles at him. It’s the first time he’s ever cradled a baby and this instance is just about to make him spiral.

“Darling, you need more sleep. You get up in a few hours for work. Let me handle Sam.”

Will jumps, protectively cradling the baby closer to his chest. He turns to see a middle-aged man who eerily looks like Hannibal with his grey hair and sharp eyes. There’s a fondness reflected in them though so Will isn’t sure if this really was Hannibal. He leans forward and plants a peck on his lips, stunning Will.

“Darling?” The man inquires, tilting his head to the side, another resemblance to Hannibal. No words come out of Will's mouth as if his throat is being pressed upon. The older man smiles at him and kisses his forehead. He takes the baby from Will's arms and gently pushes him towards the bed. “Go back to bed. You haven't had your coffee fix today. I'll brew you one after you wake up again.”

Will's body moves on its own accord and he skips to the bed and drops on it. He blinks, lying on his back.

What the hell is going on? Where is Hannibal? This… this isn't my world… is it?

A wave of sadness fills his chest, making Will clutch his chest.

Is this my emotion or someone else's?

Will attempts to sit up, but the man comes back and slips under the covers beside him. He smells of faint smoke and vanilla. Strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close and the man nuzzles his head.

This is too much physical interaction.

Will lays his palm on the man's chest and pushes him away with so much force that he falls out of the bed. Will breathes heavily and watches the man reach for the lampshade and pull on the string. Will winces at the sudden flow of light and covers his eyes. He squints, peeking between his fingers. The man is staring curiously at him, examining him. A flash of Hannibal's smiling form when they first met in Jack's office crosses his mind. Will blinks and the image is gone.

“Grigg, are you feeling under the weather? Did you not want to infect me with something?”

Will immediately shakes his head. He doesn't even have control over this body. “No.” A curt answer for a man he doesn't know. The man frowns, reaching for his hand and squeezes it. A glimpse of an all powerful soldier with black goo streaming down his face and tentacles stem from his abdomen. Will shakes his head and the image is gone again. The touch is incredibly foreign, he pulls his hand away.

“Darling, is there something I have done to anger you?”

Will glares at the man, hearing Hannibal's voice.

“Shut up, Hannibal.”

The man laughs fondly, climbing back on the bed. “Grigg, are you half asleep again? Are you referring to the Car… Carth… Carth-agini-an general?”

Does Hannibal not exist here?

A familiar throbbing wraps around his temple. If Hannibal doesn't exist here… is he alone and in vain? Did he really kill the man?

Oh god, what have I done?

“Do you… do you have an aspirin?”

The laughter dies down, a serious expression crossing the man's face. He gets out of bed and takes quick strides out of the room. Will's eyes explore the room: the cradle, a bookshelf filled with history and science fiction books, a wide window sill you can sit on, velvet beddings, and a photo by the nightstand. Will takes a closer look and sees the two men smiling at each other by the altar with the taller man wearing a baby carrier with the baby inside. Prying the metal hinges open, he takes the back out and reads the inscription behind the photo:

Grigg and Clifford Unger's Wedding Day with Sam as the Ring Bearer 2025

“You were so beautiful that day.” Cliff walks back into the room with a glass of water and an aspirin. Will glances up, a foreign feeling of affection and attraction blooms from his chest. He stares at the man curiously pepper grey hair, slight wrinkles on his face and a stance befitting a soldier standing before him.

“How long were you in the service?” Will blurts out, eyes widening at the sudden question. He sits up as Cliff blinks, handing him the tablet and glass of water.

“Around ten years until BB was born… Grigg, I told you this when we started dating. Do you not remember?”

“Apologies, I must have forgotten.” Will takes the aspirin and swallows it dry, refusing the glass of water.

Cliff scrutinizes him, making Will look away.

“Not fond of eye contact tonight, darling?”

“Stop… Stop calling me that.” Uncomfortable, Will turns away from Cliff and lies down away from him.

Humming, Cliff stands up. “I think I'll start on breakfast early. Come down with BB in an hour or two.” His hand extends to ruffle Grigg's disheveled hair but stops himself before leaving.

Will turns back, watching Cliff's form disappear in the hallway. The throbbing intensifies and Will hisses, sitting up and burying his head in his wrists. Fear seeps through, making Will hug himself.

“I am Will Graham. I don't know where I am, but last I remember, I pushed us off the cliff. I am not with Hannibal, he doesn't seem to exist here. I killed him. Oh god, I killed him. I accepted you and you left me.” Tears cloud his vision as he tightens his hold on himself. He tightly shuts his eyes, rocking himself. An image of Hannibal kneeling in front of him and cupping his face appears saying,

“Will, reel in your breathing. I am with you. Take a deep breath with your nose and breathe out with your mouth after three counts.”

Will follows Hannibal's instructions, calming himself. He sniffs and wipes his tears away. He hasn't thought back to his early moments with Hannibal before he found out he was the Chesapeake Ripper, but that image relieved him so much.

I miss him. Oh god, I need to get back to him.

The savory scent of ham fills the house, making Will's stomach rumble. He stands up, closing his eyes, and sucking in a deep breath.

One

Two

Three

Will breathes out, opening his eyes and ambling towards the cradle. The babe, Sam, is splayed out on his back with the blanket by his feet. A secret smile etches into his face as he pulls the blanket up to Sam's chin. His hand uncertainly hovers as he reaches out to caress Sam's cheek. As if pushed by an unseen force, Will's hand tenderly cups Sam's face. His hand is cold compared to Sam and he worries for a while until he feels heat transfer to his fingers and he rubs small circles on Sam. The baby leans into his touch for a while before facing away and sucking on his thumb. Will chuckles, caressing Sam's head and taking a step back.

Is this how Hannibal felt with Mischa? With Abigail?

Will gulps, gripping the sidebars of the cradle as his knees go weak. He never connected with family, why is this baby making him feel things? Taking another breath, Will steadies himself and hastily walks out of the room. The rapid movement unsettles his balance, making him use his hand to prop himself on the wall as he looks for the stairs. Will descends it, following the scent of ham into the dining area. He leans on the banister and he watches Cliff cook. From behind, he looks like Hannibal, and a pang of emptiness grips Will's heart.

You cooked warm meals for me… I long for the comfort they gave me.

“You're up. No Sam, huh? He fell back to sleep then.” Cliff sets the plate of ham on the table and turns to grab two mugs of coffee. “Did you want me to bring out the milk to go with your coffee?”

Will shakes his head, taking a seat across Cliff. He takes the mug and a flash of the man from the photo earlier appears. Will frowns, staring at his mug but nothing appears. He hums, taking a sip of his coffee. Both men eat in silence, a palpable tension in the air. As Will takes the third bite of his ham and eggs, Cliff asks,

“You're not my husband, are you?”

Will coughs, choking on the piece of ham.

“Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot.” Cliff stands up and walks around the table. He gets to Will and pats his back to help ease the choking. Will settles after a few more pats as Cliff returns to his seat.

“I don't know how to answer your question,” Will replies honestly as he avoids Cliff's scrutinizing gaze. He stares at his half-drank coffee and the man from earlier appears again, raising a brow at him. Will frowns, baffled.

How is my reflection similar yet distant at the same time?

Cliff hums, sensing a hint of anxiety emanating from his not-husband. “Finish your food and wash up then we'll talk.”

Will winces at the familiar tone. Hannibal used to tell him to finish his food as well. Hence on instinct, Will eats the remaining produce on his plate and downs his cooling coffee. “Thank you for the food,” he mumbles, pushing his chair back and retreating into the hallway. His body instinctively leads him to the bathroom and he closes the door behind him. Will sighs, the tension slowly leaving his body. He walks to the sink and opens the faucet. He splashes water on his face and rubs his eyes before turning the tap and looking at himself in the mirror. Will touches his hair, his usual kept curls are sprouting everywhere. He's clean-shaven too and his serious eyes fill with wonder and excitement.

Did I ever look this youthful? Would Hannibal have liked to see me like this?

A few moments of silence stretch before Will's mouth moves on its own.

“Rough morning, huh? How are you feeling?”

Will blinks, processing the current situation. His reflection talked back to him, but he wasn't thinking of any questions nor was he feeling anything in particular to make talk to himself. Not like when he was in the presence of Sam.

An unfamiliar chuckle escapes his lips. “You think too much. I’m genuinely worried about the environment you were pushed in.”

Will's eyes widen as a quick image of the man in the photo appears beside him, smiling. “I… Is this real?” A stinging flares up on his cheek and Will looks down on his hand.

“I think that answers your question.” The man amusedly replies. Will turns back to the mirror, confused. “Grigg Harris, nice to meet you. That's G-R-I-G-G. I know, weird name, but I like it. It's unique.” Will blinks, and a throbbing starts behind his eyes. “Wow, does aspirin not work on you? Open the cabinet and on the far right of the second level, you'll find the tablets.”

Will does as he's instructed and swallows, closing his eyes.

“You pop them like they're your lifeline. That's a problem.”

Will laughs bitterly. “When you've survived through untreated encephalitis, come back and tell me that.” A wave of guilt fills Will's chest and he opens his eyes seeing a soft yet pained look reflecting back.

“Don't… don't look at me like that. I don't need your pity.”

“It's not pity, it's empathy. You of all people should know that.”

Will bites his tongue, unable to retort.

“Sorry… I didn't mean to pry. Your memories are accessible to me and that's like your whole shtick with Hannibal.”

Will winces at the mention of his name.

“Oh… Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Grigg Harris, an IT personnel. You are?”

“Will Graham, ex-FBI, and I killed the man who was in love with me.” Will chuckles resentfully. Is he going crazy? Has he finally broken and another personality emerges to help him cope with his guilt?

“That's rude. I own this body, William. Yeah, I know your whole name, proof that I'm not another personality. Now would you stop your self-deprecation and answer me properly?”

Will coughs, an unfamiliar feeling of fondness engulfs him. This is possibly the first time anyone has called him out for criticizing himself aside from Hannibal. “I… I'm not sure I can.” Both hands rise on their own accord and slap Will's cheeks, grounding him.

“Look, I know this is weird for you since Hannibal has been the only one inside your head. But now, I am too. Trust isn't easy for you, I get that. But we're in one body at the moment and I would like to get to know you on your own terms.” Will feels himself sigh exasperatedly. “Will you give me your trust?”

Will gasps as warmth stabs through his icy heart. The statement genuinely feels like a brother giving him a lecture and tears begin to form again.

“Oh shit. Oh god, did I make you cry? Wait, there's tissue by the toilet. Put the cover down and sit near it so you can blow your nose.”

Will laughs as he stoops his head and the tears cascade down his cheeks. ”Grigg, shut up a moment. I need to process.”

A knock makes Will's heart skip a beat as anxiety bombards him in full force. “Darling, you've been in there a while. Are you alright?”

“Cliff! Come in here, I need you to comfort him!” Grigg frantically replies.

“No!” Will attempts to push the door closed, but Cliff barges into the room. Will lifts his gaze like a deer caught in headlights. Cliff quickly wraps an arm around his waist as the other cradles his head. Cliff pulls him close, giving Will the warmest hug he's ever experienced. Will tries to push the man away, but the arms tighten around him. The tears intensify, falling down like a waterfall. He silently cries for the confusion and agony this situation is giving him. For the abandonment of Hannibal again and now he was in a foreign world with no access to anything familiar.

“Are you Grigg or someone else?” Cliff asks after Will's sobs die down. He cups Will's face, lifting him to meet his gaze. Will wipes the tears and sighs.

“Will Graham, ex-FBI. I'm incredibly lost, confused, and anxious.”

Cliff hums, patting Wil's head. “I heard my husband call out to me… I’m fucking worried to have a different person introducing themself.”

“Love you too, Cliff. Thank you for the implication.” Will feels himself pout, intensely staring at the older man. Cliff laughs, ruffling Will's hair.

“You're welcome, darling. I do wonder if this is the roleplay you were explaining last week.”

Will’s cheeks heat up and his hand moves to hit Cliff on the chest, but Cliff catches his hand. Cliff kisses Will’s palm and laughs loudly, wiping the remaining tear stains.

“You are insufferable. Stop teasing the man, he's disoriented,” Grigg chides, taking a step back from Cliff.

“You're giving me whip… whip… whiplash? Did I use the term correctly, darling? You are speaking in two different voices.”

Grigg grins at how cute his husband is and controls his body, making Will take a back seat. Grigg grabs Cliff's collar and pulls him in for a soft kiss. Will feels tingles down his spine, enjoying the feel of lips on his.

Wow, you're that touch-starved, William?

Will growls, forcing the men to pull away. “I don't like being teased that way, Grigg.”

Cliff is stunned, stuck with his arms up. “Is it safe to assume you are Will at the moment?”

Will rolls his eyes, rubbing his face. “Look, I don't know how this works. But the moment I saw Grigg through the mirror, we suddenly were able to communicate with each other at the expense of using one mouth.”

Cliff squints his eyes, letting the words simmer. “And we also don't know how long we're staying like this so you have to get used to it, honey,” Grigg explains, reaching for Cliff's hand and squeezing it. Cliff squeezes back, rubbing circles on the back of Grigg's hand.

“Okay then. I'm assuming you're going to ask if you can work from home. Should I be the one to call your supervisor and tell them you're sick?”

Grigg shakes his head, entwining their fingers. “I'll do it so they think it's authentic. The last time you talked to my supervisor… I don't like the tone he used.” He hums grumpily. Cliff chuckles, planting a kiss on his husband's forehead.

“Jealousy is so rare for you, it's refreshing to see you express it.”

Grigg looks away, embarrassed. He sees his reflection in the mirror and an image of Will glaring at Hannibal when he mentions the Dragon appears. Grigg raises a brow, amused. “You're an incredibly jealous one, aren't you?”

Will licks his teeth, glaring at Grigg. “You would be too if you hear your lover talking about another man in front of you.”

“Lover huh? From the influx of memories, I had a feeling you didn't see Hannibal as your lover just yet, William. Or am I wrong?” Grigg teases, watching Will's expression turn dark. He raises their hands in surrender. “Kidding. I don't want to end up on the menu.”

Will's expression shifts to something soft. A question springs to mind. “How are both of you acting normal about this?”

“We've experienced weirder, William. Just enjoy your time with us. You're acting like you've been to war.” Cliff comments, watching Will's face turn sour. Cliff's eyes widened, feeling guilty. “Fuck, did we step on a trigger again? Were you really in a war? Grigg, oh god, did we cause his post… post… fuck, what's the word?”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder. And no, you haven't. I don't have PTSD. I just… My experience with people is different.”

“You've built up walls and aren't sure what lies beyond that,” Grigg finishes, reaching for Cliff's hand again. The heat emanating from the hold thaws Will's heart again.

If I allowed myself to leave with him three years ago, would I be holding Hannibal's hand like this?

“How are both of you so… in love?” Will turns to Cliff and sees him staring adoringly at him. It reminds him of the times in Hannibal's Baltimore home, home-cooked meals, and deep conversations.

“Grigg has been incredibly patient with me. Teaching me the intricacies of his world and expressing his love openly. Despite the pain I caused him in the Stranding, he doesn't hold it over my head, and instead… he showers me with unconditional love.”

Will is at a loss for words. That is exactly how their relationship with Hannibal went. Flashes of Grigg's time in the stranding, all his suffering and agony, and yet his love transcends it all.

Can I truly let go of Hannibal's transgressions and love him unconditionally?

Loud crying breaks everyone's trance.

“Ah, Sam decided to interrupt at the right moment. Let's go.” Cliff pulls Will by the hand and they ascend the stairs back to the room. Cliff lets go of Will, leaving him cold and empty.

You'll get more later, we just have to deal with BB first, okay?

Will internally nods, staying by the door. He watches as Cliff scoops Sam in his arms, tenderly rocks him, and smiles down at him. The sun's glow slips through the curtains, basking Cliff in its orange glow. His bangs fall on his face as a soft expression appears on his face. The vibe on the otherwise threatening man has Will tingling all over. He isn't sure if it's his own feelings or Grigg's.

Might be a bit of both, Will. I love watching Clifford take care of BB like this. He loves his son so much… He died for him.

Will nods, unsure how to reply. He let Abigail die, the only child in his life he actually cared for. Walter had a semblance of his affection due to his feelings for Molly, but other than that… he isn't sure he'd sacrifice himself for a child, biological or not.

Your thoughts aren't often tasty, are they? Aren't you exhausted feeling this way every day?

Does it look like I have a choice, Grigg? My empathy runs haywire the moment I open my eyes.

Is that why you have dogs? You want a veneer of control. You want to be obeyed.

Will frowns, uncomfortable with the image Grigg is making.

Are you implying that my pack of strays is only for my selfish needs?

Your words, not mine, Will. I merely pointed out what I saw in your memories.

Stop going through them then.

Stop overwhelming my mind with the images of your suffering then. Have you genuinely not made any good memories with these people?

For the second or maybe third time today, Will has no retort. Grigg seems to see him as he is, but that's only because he's in his head. No one else would understand him aside from Hannibal.

Okay, stop right there. That's just toxic. We have a lot to talk through.

“Grigg? Will? I'm not sure who's in control at the moment, but Sam won't stop crying.” Cliff calls, still rocking BB in his arms. Will takes rushes to him, gently taking BB in his arms. The babe gradually stops crying, leaning his head on Will's chest. Will stands, frozen and turning to look at Cliff.

“What… what do I do?” Will whispers, scared of waking Sam.

Cliff smiles, leading him toward the wide window sill. He assists him in sitting and cracks open the window, leaving it ajar.

“Sit here, enjoy the view, and Sam's company. I'll be the one to talk to Grigg's supervisor-” Grigg huffs, angered by the thought. Cliff chuckles, ruffling their hair and planting a peck on their forehead. “BB needs you here, I don't want to hear any complaints.”

Will looks at the window and a reflection of Grigg appears. “Fine, but I get all the affection I can get later.”

“Are you sure you want to do that with Will hovering over you?”

Grigg frowns, he didn't think of that. The kissing was fine, but anything beyond that?

I wouldn't mind joining. Could help me understand the appeal.

Shut up, Graham. I'm not sharing Cliff with you.

Are you sure you can hold out that long? I've seen the thoughts you have.

I said, shut up, William!

Will internally laughs as Cliff grins. “That's what I thought. I'll be back later. I need to do the dishes. Thank god it's my fucking off today.” Cliff squeezes their shoulder before walking away.

Grigg sighs, looking down at BB's sleeping form.

“He's so small. How are you not worried that you'll squeeze him to death?

“Graham… seriously, get your unsavory thoughts out of here. I genuinely miss being in my own head now.”

Will laughs, leaning his head back. “And yet here I am, thankful you aren't a figment of my shattered mind. It's nice not having to deal with my thoughts alone.”

“You mean not having another mind that makes your thoughts spiral.”

Will grimaces, remembering the method Hannibal used to get him incarcerated. He got gaslighted into thinking he killed their daughter when she was still alive.

“Was she really your daughter though?” Grigg asks, wanting Will to verbalize his reply.

Will gulps, shutting his eyes. Despite this, an image in his head starts to form. A cozy fireplace akin to the one downstairs materializes with a long brown sofa in front of it. Some figurines from various sci-fi shows appear on the mantle and a curly-haired man appears on one end of the couch. He turns and vibrant blue eyes reflect back at him.

“Come sit with me, we have much to talk about. BB will be fine, I've got control of my faculties.” Grigg calls, tapping the space beside him. Will obliges, walking towards the couch, but sits on the far end. “Of course you'd sit over there. Alright then.” Grigg comfortably leans on his side, looking at Will.

“Mind telling me why you're so cagey with Sam?”

Will frowns, turning to look at Grigg as well. “You've seen my thoughts. Why are you still asking me?”

“I want to hear it come from you.”

Grigg's words made Will's heart quiver. That’s essentially what Beverly told him before Hannibal went and filleted her for the whole world to see. He covers his eyes, refusing to cry. Toned arms wrap around Will, pushing his head to the crook of his neck.

“I definitely know you're older than me, but wow. You've been through too much. I'd call you out for falling for that cannibal, but I can see how much you both cherish the bond… You guys really just need better outlets.”

Will laughs as the tears fall from his eyes, staining Grigg's shirt. Can you stain a shirt if you're crying in a memory palace?

“Damn it, I wish we had actual tea. I binged Big Bang Theory with Cliff last year and Sheldon really had a good tip. Serving a hot beverage to someone feeling down.”

Will snorted, hugging himself and burying his head further in Grigg's shoulder. They don't say anything else for a few breaths before Will settles down and starts,

“I could've had a child… Margot Verger, one of Hannibal's clients-” Grigg squeezes his shoulder, understanding the weight of what he was about to share. “-she convinced me to sleep with her. It could've been the heir of the Verger meat dynasty but…” Will scoffs, lifting his hands to his face and rubbing his eyes. “But he had it killed by Mason out of spite and jealousy. I don't… I don't think I can trust myself around a baby with that type of baggage hanging around me.”

Grigg tightens his hold on Will and nuzzles his head. He pries his arms open and wraps them around his waist so he can hug the man better.

“I will personally ask Cliff to kick this guy's ass. Your taste in men is questionable but understandable.”

Will lifts his head, raising a brow. “You're attracted to Hannibal?”

Grigg laughs heartily. “Please, what's not to like? He can cook, has exquisite taste, is musically inclined, and can defend himself.” Will's eyes subtly turn dark, Grigg catches this and laughs. “Putting that aside, you can keep your cannibal.” He pats Will's head like how he'd comfort his nieces and nephews. “You're basically scared that you're not safe for BB... How does Abigail fit into the picture?”

Will winces at the mention of her name. He contemplates how to reply since he did know the basic information accessible to him, but he barely scratched the surface of getting to know Abigail herself. “She's my daughter by proxy because I empathized with her father for too long. I felt guilty of reveling in his death.” A weight lifted off his chest at the admission. “She was the glue that made Hannibal and I bond together and the moment she was out of the picture, we had to stand on our own… I had to see the negative to… see the positive.”

A flash of Hannibal clutching his side on the floor of his secret hideout appears by the fireplace. Will reaches for him, attempting to stop the bleeding but he slowly fades from view.

“You better tell this to Hannibal. Make him feel guilty for the shit he put you through. His three years in prison isn't enough.” Grigg kisses Will's head.  Thank you for giving me your trust, Will Graham. I appreciate it and I'm glad you got to get some stuff out of your chest.” He hugs Will tighter. “To reciprocate that. Stay with our family for as long as you like. We'll give you good food and warmth. Though you might be forced to meet my huge family outside Cliff and BB. How does that sound?”

“Exhausting.”

Grigg’s laugh echoes in Will's mind as he opens his eyes and sees Cliff by his lap, holding his hand and BB securely tucked in the other arm. A secret smile crosses Will's face as he looks outside. Ice is melting from the tree branches as the warm glow of the sun shines down on it. Such a beautiful scene to reflect what he felt inside. At least he wasn't wallowing in guilt. A new determination to get back to Hannibal wells in Will's core. 

He's getting a piece of my mind when I get back to him.

~~~~~⭐️~~~~~

Will roars with laughter, leaning back on the couch as Cliff hovers over them. BB is sitting on his high chair, giggling and banging on his table. Grigg and Cliff have been incredibly gracious to Will for the past nine days. Will has never felt this full in his entire life. He's always been searching for scrapes of affection or averted from it entirely, but these two… He's never seen a much more wholesome couple.

Home-cooked meals every single day, cuddling and kissing and petting were in abundant supply, baby time with Sam was the cutest and most fun Will's had as well. Grigg was even kind enough to allow Will to watch him and Cliff make love on the fifth day. Cliff arrives home, scoops Grigg from the couch, strips him of his clothing, and tells Will to back off before he has Grigg wrapping his legs around his waist and he thrusts deeply and lovingly into him. When asked what got into him, Cliff merely replied that Grigg was strong enough to wait for Will to leave, but he wasn't.

 Will has never longed to try sleeping with Hannibal until that moment.

“Get off me you, brute! I am not fixing your car just for you to stare at Grigg's ass.”

“Please,” Cliff begs. “I know there's something amiss with it, you have to check it out, mechanic. Staring at my husband's ass is just an additional delight.”

Will huffs, staring up at Cliff and then eyeing Sam. Grigg's warm arms also blanket Will's mind, giving him a sense of dread. He'll have to leave this place at some point. Will yawns, turning on his side to give Cliff space behind him. “Where have you both been all my life?”

“Don't forget BB, he likes you a lot. Not even Cat can get him to eat vegetables.” Cliff lies behind Will and cuddles him.

Will chuckles, staring at Sam. Sam smiles at him, opening and closing his hands. “Would I be a good father?”

Cliff hums, burying his nose in their nape. “Yes you would… you haven't had the opportunity of building a proper one yet. But when you do, Grigg would agree with me on this, you would be incredible.”

Will sadly smiles, entwining their fingers with Cliff's as his eyes start to feel drowsy. “Thank you both for being patient with me.”

“You're most welcome, William. You're practically the brother I never had. I love you despite only knowing you for nine days. Catch you later, fisherman.” Grigg's voice echoes through Will's mind as he slowly drifts to sleep.

The scent of beer wakes Will, making him sniff and sit up. He rubs his eyes and squints to check his surroundings. A sinking feeling in his stomach jolts him awake at the realization of not being with Cliff, Grigg, and Sam. It’s followed by a strong feeling of annoyance.

“Bobby… why are you awake? It’s only four am.”

Chapter Text

“Mmmm, Duncan, is your back hurting again?” As if on cue, needle-like pricking surrounds Hannibal’s back. He groans in pain, collapsing on his arm and feeling each muscle in his body tremble. “Oh my god!”

A click of a lampshade echoes through the cabin as soft light envelopes the space around the bed. Hannibal squints, allowing the person to help him lay on his back. He wheezes, staring up at the most intense green eyes he’s ever laid his eyes on. Will sometimes had this vibrant hue, but… to see worry reflected at him is an uncomfortable feeling. Hannibal is used to a glare, maybe even a conniving look, but worry… it makes his heart clench.

Would Will ever gaze into my eyes and fret over my well-being?

“Baby, look at me, please.”

Hannibal blinks, staring up at the man. Emerald eyes smile at him, caressing his cheek. That’s when he notices his vision seems off, incomplete. Hannibal raises his hand to his face to feel an eyepatch over his left eye. He frowns, slipping his middle finger under the fabric. The marred flesh under his finger tip dips as he gently presses it.

Hollow… what has this man done to himself? Why have I been flung into these individuals who have no care for their body? I would like to live inside one that cares for his physique.

“I’m fine, Aiden. I’m sore from last night's activities.” Hannibal’s mouth moves on its own accord again. A small smirk etches its way to his lips, making Aiden blush above him.

“Shut up, polar bear. Go back to sleep, you have to drive me to the local school for my drawing class.” Aiden slaps Hannibal’s chest before rolling on his side. Hannibal is stunned, the sting lingers. A few moments pass, making Aiden turn towards him and frown. “Aren’t you going to turn off the light and cuddle with me?”

Pride engulfs Hannibal’s being as his arms move on their own accord. He wraps it around Aiden’s waist and pulls the lithe man close to his chest, burying his chin in the crook of his neck. He wraps his leg around the younger man, pressing him incredibly close to him. He sniffs, a familiar scent of pine and snow linger.

Will… Would you have allowed me to hug you like this? A tender gesture of protection.

Aiden hums, leaning into Hannibal, wiggling his butt against his groin. A groan escapes his lips as his hand moves unconsciously towards Aiden’s crotch. Hannibal feels himself squeeze the man and a moan fills the air.

“Fuck, Duncan. We can’t. I need to wake up early for class tomorrow.”

Hannibal grunts, kissing Aiden’s neck. Another wave of yearning fills him, maybe the morning will bring better thoughts and feelings. He’d also be able to get a feel of the body. Looking for a mirror or something akin to it and conversing with the owner is tomorrow's top priority

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Hannibal wakes to the scent of sausages and eggs. It reminds him of the first meal he cooked for Will. A faint, “You and I are just alike”, echoes in his head as he leans on his elbows and covers his eyes at the sunlight streaming through the windows of the cabin.

When his eyes adjust, he scans the home and smiles to himself. It’s a cozy cabin with rustic, oak walls, a television in the living room alongside a huge black arm chair. It had a side table with a remote and two charging ports for phones and a desk by the window overlooking the lake. It’s filled with papers. Sketches of a bloodied polar bear catches his eyes. He lifts the pelts off him and grabs the robe by the headboard, wrapping it around his bare body.

“Awww, I was enjoying the view, polar bear.” Aiden’s teasing voice says as he sets the table.

Hannibal ignores him, instead tying a bow with the robe’s lace and taking quick steps to get to the table. A snarling face of a bloodied bear looks back at him. It had a bullet scar on its left eye, similar to this body’s. But the most striking thing on the desk was buried under stacks of Scottish mythology books. Hannibal spots the outline of intertwined hands. He lifts the books and gently pulls the paper out, flipping it to find two men standing under the moonlight, blood and bodies surrounding them. The pelt coat is halfway done, but Hannibal could care less. The powerful imagery of both men kissing, no… gripping each other like it was their last is incredibly resonant for Hannibal. Will’s bleeding hand and face cross his mind and the whisper of “It is black in the moonlight” and “it’s beautiful” make him grip the chair as he feels his knees weaken.

“Moved by my piece, Duncan?” Aiden whispers in Hannibal’s ear, making him jump away in surprise and his hand instinctively goes for Aiden’s neck. Thankfully, Aiden’s reflexes are fast and he quickly deflects the hand. If he didn’t… Hannibal may have asphyxiated the man. “Sorry, I forget you still have PTSD sometimes… May touch you?”

Hannibal nods as the man grins and cups his face. He lifts his chin to look at him and tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. Aiden rubs soothing circles on Hannibal’s cheeks just as the pot squeals.

“Oh, soup is ready, come on. You haven’t been eating right again.” Aiden pulls Hannibal by the hand and helps him sit by the table. “I made miso chicken soup with sausage scramble as a side.”

Hannibal stares at the sausage, longing for it to taste like long pig before he lifts the spoon, scoops a portion and takes a bite.

Dear Lord, why do you test me so?

Hannibal chews the scramble and takes a sip of the soup. The soup lacks a bit more salt and has too many vegetables. Chicken is tender, but the scramble… too buttery and may have sat in the meat’s fat for too long. “Duncan, I know you don’t eat much in the mornings, but please finish your food. You’re my chaperon. I need you buff and healthy and satisfied.” Aiden teasingly wriggles his eyebrows.

Hannibal clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, but does as Aiden says. Of course he would still finish the meal. Food offered is never to be wasted even if it does not taste as gratifying; Lady Murasaki used to say. Each bite was not to Hannibal’s liking, but the base is there. It only needed some fine tuning much like his theremin back in Baltimore. They finish their meal in comfortable silence and his body moves like clockwork. He takes the plates, puts them in the sink, washes them by hand despite the cold water, and places the dishes on the rack.

“Duncan, do you want chocolate?”

Hanninal turns, seeing Aiden offer a piece of square Novi dark chocolate he put between his teeth. He grins, taking a step forward. Desire overrides Hannibal’s senses. His arms wrap around Aiden’s waist and he dips the man, taking the chocolate from his mouth and devouring his sweet lips. He licks Aiden’s mouth, coaxing him to open. When he doesn't, Hannibal nibbles on Aiden’s lower lip, making the man groan and open his mouth. Hannibal’s tongue expertly explores Aiden’s mouth like a home he’s often visited and stayed in.

“Vizla,” Aiden whines, gripping the rob and attempting to pull away. Hannibal's arms tighten, pulling Aiden flush against him. Their hardening cocks graze each other, a stimulating jolt travels down Hannibal's spine, feeling himself leak a little.

How disgraceful. This body is incredibly feral for an old one.

“Galvin,” Hannibal's mouth whines back, teasing. The young man laughs against him, leaning his head back. He licks his lips, reminding Hannibal of Will.

I would sacrifice this body to be with him again.

Aiden plants one more sweet kiss on Hannibal’s lips before slipping away and darting for the bathroom. “You can’t come in here! You better be clothed when I get out. I’m already running late as it is.” The door slams and the lock clicks.

A secret, fond smile graces his lips as he sheds the robe and forces himself to look for a towel or something else to wipe off his spent. This body, however, has a strong will and uses the robe to wipe himself. Hannibal huffs in distaste and disappointment before the robe is discarded in the clothes bin and he walks towards the cabinet. He opens the door and a tear rolls down his face. From Markus’ atrocious military clothes and now…. Duncan’s all black apparel with only turtlenecks and no spec of color is just about to drive Hannibal insane - than he already is. He defeatedly sighs and quickly grabs one of the neatly folded sweaters, a fresh pair of boxers, grey joggers, and socks.

“Please do take your time, I love the sight of your hairy ass,” Aiden sarcastically states. Hannibal turns to look at him and stops himself from speaking… Aiden’s tousled hair and casual style is incredibly attractive. He’s a splitting image of Will especially if he allowed his hair to be in such an unruly state.

“Speechless, polar bear? Pull yourself together please, I really need you to get packing and drive me.”

Sighing once again, Hannibal does his best to quickly dress himself. His fingers graze the scars on his back, making him wince. An image of him biting the rope loose on his hand and pulling off the collar in the Verger farm flashes quickly, Hannibal stretches his neck from left to right. He grabs the keys in the bowl and opens the door, chilly wind blows on his face.

“I’m kinda jealous you could grow so much hair in so little time. You're always so warm. I have to wait months just for stubble to even grow on my face.” Aiden mumbles, adjusting his messenger bag and closing the door behind him. He kisses his lover’s cheek before skipping the steps and quickly stands beside the passenger door. “Come on, old man.”

Another fond smile graces Hannibal’s lips as he descends the stairs and unlocks his door. He gets in and reaches across to Aiden’s door. He pulls up the lock and rolls his shoulder to ease the slight ache. He starts the car, backing it out of its parking spot. The car ride is surprisingly silent, but Aiden reaches for his right hand and twines their fingers together, squeezing it, rubbing circles on it. Hannibal finds that he loves the gesture.

I crave for moments like these with Will. I implore whoever god is out there, let me be in his presence once more.

They reach the school and Aiden kisses Hannibal’s cheek before going out of the car. “I’ll call you when I’m done! They told me that today I had three hours with the kids.”

Hannibal nods, missing the warmth Aiden provided. He isn’t entirely sure if this was his or his host’s feelings. They drive back to the cabin. The body moves again as if working on a schedule and walks toward the storage area where a freezer stayed. He opens the lid and finds various assortment of baits. Hannibal takes a bag, drops it in a pail - purses his lips at the splash of fish juice landing on his pant leg - and grabs the fishing rod and foldable chair before walking down to the lake.

Another reminder of Will.

As he nears the lake, Hannibal spots a hole that’s been recently made. He positions the chair a few inches away, gently puts the pail down, unfolds the chair and sits. Hannibal reaches for the bait, stopping to see his own reflection, unblemished reflecting back at him on the clear ice.

“What have you done to your body?” Hannibal accuses, frowning up at Duncan. The man blinks down at him, unsure how to reply. “This is new for you, however, I assure you that I am quite capable of handling this situation. You are my second visit.”

“Visit? What are you?” Duncan speaks, his gruff voice coming back to him.

“A being such as yourself. I am not quite sure what I have to learn from a killer. I see no difference between us.”

“You eat people. I don’t. I kill for the money. You kill because you like the taste of flesh. Don’t fucking lump me with you.”

Hannibal licks his lips in disdain. “You’re as rude as the last hired killer I had the displeasure of accompanying.”

Duncan grunts, dipping his hand in the bait and pulling out a long earthworm. He stabs it into the hook and drops the line down into the hole, ignoring Hannibal’s attempts to grab his attention.

“You’re used to being in your own head. Feeling uncomfortable now that someone sees you for who you are, Mr. Vizla?”

Duncan narrows his eyes on Hannibal’s reflection. The intense glare is comparable to a snarling bear.

“You do not speak much either. Depending if your partner-” Duncan’s expression softens, a pang of disappointment stinging his chest.

“Ah, he is not your partner then? Is he someone you pay to sleep with?”

Fervor returns to Duncan’s eyes, tenfold. “Don’t you fucking call him a whore. He’s more than that.”

“And yet you do not tell him so, why?”

Duncan licks his lips as something pulls on his line. He reels it in, but the other end pulls harder. He eases the line, allowing the fish to take its time before yanking the line and a huge northern pike jumps in the air. Duncan expertly catches it, tossing it in the cooler. Hannibal didn’t even notice they took one with them.

“You allowed your wounds to fester, making isolation a scar and a comfort for you.” Hannibal answers himself after raking through Duncan’s most intimate memories. The inside of the cabin manifests in Duncan’s mind, giving form to both of them.

“You grew up an orphan? Quite similar to myself, except you are also the reason the orphanage burned.”

A flash of dead children and adults  litters the memory place’s floors. Blood squirts from their necks while a young Duncan stands in the middle, holding a fork and a dead man’s testicles. He releases it and collapses beside a naked man of the same age. He had curls similar to Aiden’s and incomparable beauty. Duncan cradles his face; eyes vacant as tears stream down his face. “Laszlo,” Duncan repeatedly mumbles, bumping his forehead against the dead man.

“Your becoming was inelegant, Black Kaiser. Possibly without reason as well but the selfish desire to maim and plunder; a home invasion that unlocked your primal instincts. Humanity at its peak is when they let their cruelty show through their person suit.”

Duncan clenches his fist, sitting on the chair and attempting to control his rage. He winces as Hannibal permeates deeper into his memories. Duncan attempts to push him away, hiding the remaining memories in locked boxes and swallowing the keys.

“Interesting, you know how to control your memory palace. Perhaps I should prod more to ascertain how much you can withstand.” 

A karambit knife materializes in his hand and he pounces on Duncan who easily dodges. Hannibal smirks, stabbing behind him, only for Duncan to sweep his leg from under him. Hannibal collapses, winded. He looks up to see Duncan’s eyes glow amber as he raises his foot and stomps on his hand. Hannibal growls, releasing the knife. Duncan leans down, picking up the knife and grips Hannibal’s jaw open, hooking the tip of the karambit knife on the inner wall of Hannibal’s cheek.

“I will not have you disrespect their memory,” Duncan barks, slicing through Hannibal’s cheek, cutting a piece of tongue with it. Duncan raises his hand and plunges the knife through Hannibal’s belly button, pulling it up to expose his organs.

In the physical plain, Duncan groans, dropping to his side, curdling inward. His body feels like it’s under fire from when he went undercover in Japan. He had to pose as a dead body for him to permeate the mob boss’s inner circle and kill him. A growl bellows from Duncan’s throat, resembling a threatened bear.

Inside the memory palace, Hannibal’s flesh repairs itself as he pushes Duncan off him and rips the chains off the boxes. Memories of the cold orphanage, his assassination assignments up to Camille’s capture flood his mind as Duncan’s secret door behind the bookcase glows, multiple locks adorning it from top to bottom.

“Stay the fuck away from there!” An inhuman voice growls at Hannibal, but an axe appears in his hand. Hannibal stands up, pushing the bookcase away from the door thenn hacking his way through it. The locks seem to heal themselves when he lifts the weapon. But much like his locked doors in his own memory palace, Will gently pried it open, taking his time. Hannibal does this and by the last lock, the door opens, allowing Hannibal to grasp Duncan’s memories with Aiden. A rush of familiar warmth overwhelms Hannibal– one he felt when Will offered Randall’s meat at the table.

Lopsided grin

Lush emerald eyes

Ramblings of mythological creatures

Emmaculate naked body glowing under the sun

“It’s your life. You don’t get another and I wouldn’t be here. Now kiss me and make this date romantic, polar bear.”

Hannibal coughs, retracting himself from Duncan’s memories and taking a seat on his couch.

Duncan gasps and heavily breathes, the pain subsiding from his body. “You’ve never known choice nor steadfast love until he came.”

“Get the fuck out of my head, you sick cannibal.”

“I wish I could. However, I will stay for nine days before I leave.”

Duncan huffs, seating up. He stares back at Hannibal’s reflection on the ice. The orange glow of the setting sun barely heats up Duncan’s hands.

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, you are not my first host… I apologize for prodding your memories. I find it is the easiest way to make our interaction smoother. You did not have a mirror in your cabin I could manifest in.”

A small smile appears on Duncan’s face as he sighs and pats his joggers for a cigarette.

“Of course you are a smoker too.” Hannibal complains, directing Duncan’s hand to the front right pocket of his joggers. “Markus smoked like it was his oxygen.”

Duncan chuckled, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He sucks in the smoke and breathes out through his mouth. The bitter aftertaste makes Hannibal grimace. Both men let a comfortable silence pass before an unsettling ache starts in Hannibal’s gut.

“I believe it’s been more than four hours since you left your significant other at the school. Should we leave?”

Duncan snuffs out the rest of his cigarette and collects the pail and cooler before trudging back to the cabin

~~~~~☆~~~~~

When they arrive, Duncan makes a beeline for the principal’s office. “He left at the usual time, Mr. Vizla. Though, we did see him with an older man earlier. They were having a heated discussion.”

Duncan’s heart stops then beats frantically as memories of Camille come flooding back. He leans his hand on the wall, stopping himself from collapsing. Her overdosed body lay on the couch where he found her; pulse barely detected.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not again. Fuck, I should’ve been here. Fuck. FUCK!

Duncan, listen to me. You have to move. This is not the future you envisioned for yourself.

Hannibal’s words feel like a bucket of cold water doused Duncan; numbing yet grounding. Duncan licks his lips and pushes himself off the wall. He pats his pants for his phone and dials Vivian’s number from Damocles. Aiden’s ex of the same name leaves a bad taste in Duncan’s mouth; she left him right after realizing she wasn’t brave enough to leave her pack: responsibility over love.

Ring

Ring

Ri-

“Duncan. Finally done playing house with your boy toy?” Vivian slurs from the other line.

“Always a pleasure hearing your voice, Vivian. Drinking yourself into an early retirement again then.”

Vivan sighs in annoyance as shuffling is heard behind her. She replies after a few moments, “What is it you want, Kaiser? You’ve killed our head and given me more work.”

“Track GPS on the phone model PHLUHG 00986754320.”

“What? You lost him after six months. Did he get bored of you?”

“Just find him.” Duncan quickly takes out the sim of his burner phone and breaks the sim. He slots in a spare one and dials Vivian’s number again. “Have you found it?”

“He’s on the outskirts of town. The same building you fired the automatic machine gun.”

Duncan ends the call and breaks the sim again. He pockets the phone, walks out of the school, and lights a cigarette before getting into his vehicle. Duncan catches Hannibal shaking his head disapprovingly in the rearview mirror.

“The more you inhale that infernal smoke, the shorter your life would be with Galvin.”

Duncan ignores him and steps on the gas, speeding through cars, and ignoring traffic lights. Thankfully, he’s technically in a small town and he’d get away with a fine. As he approaches the building, Duncan’s heart starts to pound, unable to decipher what they would find once he enters.

“You’re a trained assassin. Control your emotions, Duncan. He needs you in tip top shape.”

Duncan glares daggers at the backseat before puffing on the last bit of his cigarette and throwing it out the window. He leans his head up and blows the smoke into the roof. Slivers of smoke re-enter his nose, giving his last semblance of a nicotine fix. He reaches under the backseat and lifts the padding to reveal an arsenal. He takes a Glock, silencer, two hand grenades, and three magazines of bullets; one of them being incendiaries. Duncan gets out of the car and looks up into the night sky, closing his eyes to concentrate his senses.

Faint shouting is heard inside which indicate at least two people. Aiden’s voice is definitely one of them. Duncan opens his eyes and walks to the back side of the building. He gets through the bare door with ease before squatting behind a crumbling wall.

One

Two

Three

Four men including Aiden are in the building and huddled in one spot. He can’t use the incendiary bullets to set anyone on fire, Aiden would be caught. Duncan cautiously slinks into the darkness, taking cat-like steps toward the crowd.

“You slimy piece of shit. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? To reunite with my long lost son and give him back what he deserves.” The man brandishes a knife in front of Aiden’s face, gripping his face and pushing it back. He points the sharp edge on his cheek and grins.

“Do you remember this, son? You pointed this knife to my face. Perhaps I should give you the same scar you left me then we’d truly become connected.” The man presses the knife on Aiden’s cheek, but retracts it when Aiden doesn’t say anything. “Too bearable for you then? How about a stab to the gut like the smile you left me?”

As the man lifts the knife in the air, a shot fires. The bullet passes straight through the man’s hand, leaving a gaping hole. “Fuck!” The men scramble, attempting to hide, but Duncan precisely shoots one through the head with a curved technique. He shoots the other on the leg, forcing him to crawl. The man with the knife seems unfazed, merely smirking as Aiden glares at him. He surges forward, positioning himself behind Aiden and pointing the knife to his throat.

You cannot mindlessly shoot like you used to. That boy will not survive it much like Lazslo.

“Show yourself or he’s getting it through his neck!”

Duncan raises his hands, gun hanging on his index finger by the trigger. He steps into the light and the man starts to laugh bitterly and menacingly.

“You really are fucked in the head. You chose to draw and now you choose to be a faggot with a disfigured old man as a partner. Are your daddy issues that bad, Aiden?”

Intense loathing and fear reflects back to Duncan as he studies his lover’s face. His breathing increased since he showed himself to Aiden’s assailant. “What is your relationship with him?”

The man scoffs, forcing Aiden to look up at him. “You haven’t even told him. You’re a coward.” The man bashes his head onto Aiden, making his forehead bleed and pushing him to the side. Instead, he points the knife at Duncan. “I’m Ace Galvin, the father of the fairy you’ve been fucking. Was he good? Did he charm you with his words? Maybe it was his looks. Pretty, ain’t he?”

BANG

Duncan shoots Ace’s shoulder, a warning shot. “Why are you here?”

Ace scoffs, pressing his fingers to his shoulder. “Merely repaying the favor. I’ve been looking for this twerp and thanks to that lady at the convenience store, I found him. I just wanted him to be stronger, not make an attempt on my life. He’s never done things right. I need to correct my mistake and end it. Aiden is useless.”

Rage boils in the core of Duncan’s being as his wrath and Hanniba’s distaste for violence without reason, meld. Duncan dashes towards Ace, tackling him to the ground and grabbing the knife. He throws it at the chest of the second man who is strangling Aiden. They watch him gasp then collapse, letting go of Aiden. They share a look, Duncan asking permission from Aiden. His lover gives him a curt nod, prompting Duncan to rise from the ground. He grips Ace’s collar and bashes his head on the same spot he hit Aiden. Ace howls in pain, kneeing Duncan’s stomach, but to no avail.

“The whore deserves to die.”

“She deserves to die.”

The voice distorts into the assailant from the orphanage and Mischa’s killer. Anguish engulfs Duncan and Hannibal; all they see is red. Blinded by rage, Duncan’s fists pummel Ace, cracking his ribs and dislodging some teeth. With one last growl, Duncan leans his head back and dives for Ace’s neck. He rips through the larynx and Hannibal chews on the meat, swallowing it. A predator enjoying the triumph over prey. Breathing heavily, Duncan’s vision begins to come back, he searches his surroundings seeing Aiden stare at him with awe and… fear. Duncan frowns, looking back at Ace and sees him gurgling on his own blood from his neck gash.

Fuck, did you have to eat his throat?

You can’t waste good meat, Duncan.

“Duncan… look at me.”

Duncan glances at Aiden, anxious for what he has to say. The anticipation and tension was palpable. Aiden and Duncan stare at each other, chaotic emotions rising to the surface.

“Are you… can you… can you actually transform into a bear?”

And just like that, for the first time in a long time, Duncan bursts out laughing. “You are weird, Aiden Galvin. But no, I do not transform into a bear. I’m not like your past lover.”

A relieved smile graces Aiden’s lips as he bangs the zip tie on the leg of the chair. The impact breaks it and he crawls to Duncan. Sitting for too long with his legs bound did not help the circulation there. Duncan meets him halfway, scooping him into his arms. He hisses when Aiden’s arm touches his side. Aiden lifts his sweater, revealing three angry cuts.

“Oh my god! Duncan, how could you not feel this?”

Because he’s a monster born from unfavorable circumstances.

Are you talking about yourself or me?

Hannibal internally clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Duncan breaks his train of thought as he slides his arm under Aiden’s thighs and nape then lifts him with ease.

“What are you doing?! Put me down, polar bear. You’re hurt.”

“So are you.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but let me take care of you.”

Aiden shuts up. Even throughout the ride home, he never utters a word. When they arrive home, Aiden immediately gets out and retreats into the cabin. For the next eight days… nothing is said between them. Just the routine of eating, watching, driving Aiden to school - Duncan stays close to the vicinity this time and even got another teaching session with the new kids - going back home, eating; repeat.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Hannibal is currently drawing by the window overlooking the lake, letting Duncan rest in the memory palace. His anxiety has spiked tenfold since the younger man has not said anything to him nor has he shown any affection. Hannibal  is used to this type of withdrawal, it reminds him of Will’s actions during his incarceration. A withdrawal from friendship and yet a new door opens for family.

Hannibal shades Aiden’s hair in the usual style he used to draw Will. He adds much more unruly curls and a lopsided grin as he leans back on Duncan. Too concentrated on his masterpiece, he neglects to hear the soft patter of footsteps.

"We've been together for 6 months, Duncan. You never told me you could draw so beautifully. But even now, whenever I'm with you... I feel like you're hiding."

Duncan takes over and turns, staring at the bullet hole on the wooden floorboard. The burn marks are still visible and it reminds him of Rusty.

"I ask you why you've moved here from the States and you always deflect. Why did you hide the reason?"

Aiden scoffs, dragging a chair in front of Duncan. “How did you even find me? You’re in the funeral business. How do you have access to high-end technology?”

Moment of truth, Duncan. Your answer will make or break the relationship.

“I was a professional assassin before I met you.”

Aiden rolls his eyes, leaning his back against the wall to see Duncan better.

“Oh course you are. You’re withdrawn.” Aiden sighs, rubbing his face. “What am I even doing here? You literally left me alone these past eight days, Duncan. Maybe my dad was right. I am useless faggot, merely a whore who takes the money of unsuspecting assassins.”

Duncan stays silent, unsure how to reply. He's heard this conversation before, right before Lazslo died. His first love… Lazslo asked Hector, head of Damocles at the time, why he gives the orphanage money and treats him like the most precious thing in the world as a ploy to get Hector arrested. Hector replies by saying because he can and Lazlso is such a pretty little whore, his whole family was going to die because of him.

“Say something you asshole. Don’t… Don’t just let me go like that. Do you really want me to leave you like this?”

Duncan closes his eye, leaning his head back. No tears are to be shed for his conversation, crying merely delays the inevitable.

Crying releases endorphins and oxytocin that numb and relieve you. It could be a great avenue to explore how your prospect partner would react to your crying.

Is that how you manipulated Will into falling for you?

No, I am appalled you would insinuate I seduced William with cries for help. I merely made him curious.

And let him cook in his encephalitis.

The accusation tames Hannibal's tongue, giving Duncan enough time to compose himself. And yet, a few tears fall from his eyes. Aiden's calloused hand cups his cheek, wiping the tears away. Duncan opens his eye and stares intently at Aiden

“I isolate myself to avoid the complications that emotions bring to me. I had my job given to me by the man who killed my first love. I will not subject you to the ugly ones I have… You also withdrew. Do not turn the table on me.”

Aiden had the audacity to look guilty. “Sorry.”

Seconds of silence pass, the tension suffocating for both men, neither backing down. Hannibal had enough of it, controlling Duncan's body and reaching for the papers on top of their desk. He pushes it toward Aiden's chest.

“Read these out loud.” Hannibal commands, standing up and walking Duncan back to the bed. He lays them down, back against the wall. Aiden blinks at them, confused. Hannibal pats the space beside him, inviting him over. “You'll understand when you read it. Now, come.”

Aiden raises and brow and snorts, rising from his position on the chair. “Since when did you speak so fancy?”

Dial it down, Lecter. I can't have him thinking I can get to that level.

I'm sure you can if you want to, Vizsla. Hazard of the “job”.

Duncan internally glares at Hannibal, but his tense demeanor fades the moment Aiden takes his place by Duncan's side, their thighs bushing against each other. Duncan has to physically double down on his inhibitions to stop himself from jumping the man. He's as touch starved as the day he was born. Aiden clears his throat, tapping the papers on his lap to organize them.

“Once there were two boys, one grew up with a bear while the other with wolves.” Aiden snorts, raising a brow at Duncan. “Really?”

“I tried, my love.” A beautiful bright red streak rises from Aiden's neck to his cheeks. He looks away, staring at the adorable pencil drawn boys on the paper. He clears his throat before reading,

“Each forced into a way of life. Each thrown into the abyss of uncertainty. After all, they were neither bear nor wolf, merely humans cursed by a witch to hide their true form. No wrong was done, but if their secret were to be divulged, both would be eaten by the bear and wolf.” Aiden pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed. “This is getting too obvious Duncan, I'm not sure I can continue to read it.”

Hannibal's annoyance peaks at the statement, but reels it in. He's trying to mend the relationship, not ruin it. Not after wasting three years in prision and getting into this mess. No, not again. If Hannibal has to use his cunningness for good, then so be it. He's going to do anything to get back to his mylimasis.

“Aiden, please indulge me… I want to fix this.” Duncan states after internalizing Hannibal's reasons for the fairytale he drew. Aiden's expression turns serious once again. He stares back at the paper and takes a deep breath before continuing,

“As they grew amongst predators, so did their might and power. One day, the boy with the bear set his eyes on the pack leader's mate. There was an abundance of food hence the gathering. However, the leader of the bears caught a foul scent of belladona from the pack.” Aiden frowns, leaning on Ducan's shoulder. “I smell a whiff of a traitor in our midst. The witch told me that if I catch the scent of belladona, I was to die. If I find you, I will kill you.

Said the bear as he towers over the pack and takes deep breathes in all directions. The cursed boy cowers in fear, sweat dripping down his temple. Kinga, the bear that the boy loves so noticed this and licked the sweat, taining himself with belladona. The boy's eyes grew like saucers.

Why would you do that?! You'd die! You love the pack leader.

Yes, and I love you too. You may not be one of us, but you are of importance to me. I am to die sooner or later and I would rather my life have meaning before I bit the dust.

A resounding roar filled the air as the pack leader rammed through the other bears with much force that killed them. Kinga hid the boy behind him as the leader approaches.

You run when he gets to me. It'll buy you time.

I do not want to! Don't leave me!

I am always in your heart. Now, go!

But instead of running, the boy watched as pack leader opened his jaw and ripped Kinga's head. The blood squirts out, baptizing the boy. His emotions left him, seeping into the ground along with Kinga's blood, covering any scent of belladona his sweat would emit.

You did not run nor blink an eye at my lover's death. You are bear, just like me. I will teach you the way of trade and become a mighty bear.

Numb and emotionless, the boy nods in agreement and shackles bind around his heart, locking away any shreds of humanity he still had. His only sin was to be born to a unknown family only to be cursed at birth. What then is to happen to a boy such… as… he…” Aiden sniffs, wiping the trickling tears away. He lays the papers on the sidetable and hugs Duncan's side tightly.

Duncan hisses, feeling his cuts on the side get squeezed. “Easy, wolf boy. My cuts haven't fully healed.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later… if you want to.”

Aiden's head shot up, anticipation and curiosity reflects in his once again vibrant green eyes. “You're actually willing to get railed this time?”

Duncan shrugs, wrapping his arms around Aiden. “Am I forgiven for giving you  the space I thought you needed?”

Aiden smiles, kissing Duncan's jaw. “Yes… I didn't know you've been gay your whole life.”

“Not entirely gay. I just don't have a preference. I'd get together with whoever I connect with.”

Aiden hums, a conflicted feeling blooming inside of him. “How… how can you be so sure of what you identify as?”

Duncan turns pensive, searching his brain for the answer and hearing Hannibal's own thoughts.

Would Will question and react to his sexuality like this man has?

“I just do. You're all human to me. If I build a connection… which is rare because of my tattered past, I attach myself to it because you are like a light to my moth life. I retired to finally be free of Damocles and I thought I would lose you like I lost Lazslo… I never want to experience that loss ever again.” The admission lightens Duncan's heart, hugging Aiden tighter and kissing the top of his unruly mop of hair. “You are more to me than a useless faggot. Neither are you a whore… I want you in my life, Aiden. For how ever long that is.”

Aiden tightens his hold, burying himself in the crook of Duncan's neck. He'll read the rest of the fairytale later and he's pretty sure what the ending is, but right now. the warmth and pleasant emotions that come with being cherished engulfs him in its deluge.

“I've… I've always dreamed of a constant like you. When I closed my eyes, I would often picture you… draw you on paper to remind myself you're real. And here you are… confessing your love for me and I don't know if I can handle it. It feels like I'm burning in your warmth and I never want to leave. You broke through my winter and gave me a never ending spring.”

Hannibal's heart clenches as the yearning intensifies. How can two incredibly broken people come together and make a whole?

I don't know either, Hannibal. But I would like some privacy.

Hannibal internally laughs, walking through the door leading out of Duncan's memory palace. Duncan cups Aiden's face and plants soft pecks around his lips before diving down to devour him.

Enjoy your feral time together. You've been whining about it.

I do not whine. Go fuck yourself.

I would if I could, but I have your body.

Hannibal closes the door behind him, not wanting to delay them any further. He faces forward only to hear howling winds and a pitch black environment with a small spark at the far end. He frowns, taking steps forward until he touches a rope and steps onto what seems like a plank. Curious, Hannibal takes another step forward, swaying left to right. 

I'm on a hanging bridge it seems.

Hannibal takes shakey steps forward until he misses a plank and almost falls into an unknown ravine. He breathes in quick intervals, reeling in his uncertainty and pulls himself up on the ropes. Hannibal continues forward, the spark gradually turning into a huge bright light akin to a photostudio. He raises his hand covering his eyes as the light intensifies and he comes out, waking in a prison cell feeling cold. Muscles prickling as if he was beaten up. Hannibal squints, seeing the bright light came from the window above with two bars in it. Loud banging grabs his attention as a tray is pushed through the gap with a bowl of oatmeal and bread.

“Eat up, Struensee. Your sentenced death is in three days. Unless you want to die in here instead.”

Chapter Text

“Bobby… why are you awake? It’s only four am.”

Will frowns, pulling away from the warm body and tries to search for a lamp switch. He hears a snort, followed by a clicking sound. Orange light illuminates the space across him and he freezes in place, unable to look away.

I thought his photo as Il Mostro was dangerously attractive… This man has an innocent charm to him that Hannibal lacked or at least I haven't seen… would he have an innocent side after everything he's been through?

“Bobby?” The man inquires, cupping his cheek. Will flinches, turning away. The man's brows come together in a confused look. “Are you… are you angry with me again?”

The crack in his voice tugs on Will's heartstrings and his body moves on its own. His arms wrap around the man and bury his nose on his nape. “I'm not fucking mad at you, Lenny. I'm feeling a bit off is all.”

Lenny tries to turn, but Will’s body keeps him in place. His chest against Lenny’s back, feeling his heartbeat.

LubDub

Lubdub

LubDub

LubDub

“Just let me hold you, it’s cold.” Will's mouth lies as an underlying pang of jealousy pierces his heart. He raises a brow, curious as to who this man is.

“Can we lie down then? I want to get extra hours of sleep before going to the video store.” Lenny yawns, leaning his cheek on his lover’s and pushing them on his side to prompt Will’s actions. Will obliges, slipping further into the blanket and laying out his arm. Lenny grins, reaching for the switch and almost falling off, but Will catches him. A chuckle escapes his mouth, surprising both men. “I know I get clumsy sometimes, shut up.” Lenny mumbles, pushing back the button and darkness engulfs them. Warmth and jealousy entangle as Lenny buries himself into Will’s chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. Will gulps, staring down at the mop of hair.

Is this what it feels like to be the bigger spoon? Grigg usually curled up into Clifford… Would Hannibal curl up against me like this?

~~~~~☆~~~~~

The loud ringing of the alarm wakes Will, prompting him to get up in a hurry and slam his hand on the clock. The action feels familiar, possibly because he did wake up to his alarm before, but the aggression… that’s something new. The body forces him out of bed, but not before kissing Lenny's forehead then his neck, sucking on it, marking him. Lenny moans, leaning into Will, arching his back. Will watches as Lenny turns toward him and cups his face, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss. “Bobby,” Lenny whines, wrapping his fingers around his nape. “Don't leave yet.”

Will hums, actually contemplating the request, but his body pulls away. “No can do, kiddo. I'm going to be fucking late for work.”

“But you're always late.”

Loud laughter escapes Will's lips as he slips out of Lenny's grasp. “See you later, babe.” Will raises a brow at the pet name before rushing through the motions. He picks up a polo from the floor and sniffs it, wrenching back at the strong scent of body odor.

“There's fresh laundry in the closet,” Lenny hollers, curling on himself and falling back to sleep.

Thank god. How does an asshole who doesn't care about hygiene snag a hottie like Lenny?

Will frowns at the description he gave Lenny. He strips the boxers and slips into the shower, letting the water pellet his skin.

Hottie? I wasn't aware I was into other men expect… Did I really find Hannibal attractive or the bond he offered?

Will lifts his gaze and sees a hazy silhouette of man for a moment before he blinks and it’s gone. He quickly washes himself and rubs the 3 in 1 shampoo through his greasy hair. Will rinses and rubs his body with the bar of soap that smells like lemon.

I have to admit, I may miss Hannibal’s vanilla scented soap. This one feels too cheap.

Will rubs every nook and cranny of this body, moaning in delight when he massages his shoulders. This one seems to also have had his fair share of tussles. With one last shake of the head, Will twists the knob of the shower and gets out, grabbing the towel hanging by the shower rod across him. He wipes the fog off the mirror, revealing a cocky looking man raising a brow at him. The man licks their cut lip and rubs their face.

“I know what kind of crazy I am and I know you’re not me. So who the fuck are you?”

Will scoffs, remembering the moment he said the same thing to Jack. Bitterness consumes him for a moment before replying,

“I would love to get out of your head too, but I’m stuck here for nine days.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. I asked who you are.”

Will sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Will Graham, ex FBI consultant. I have a feeling you have a similar vocation as me if you’re this hostile.”

The man laughs, brushing the hair out of their face. “You’re not wrong, I’ll give you that. Bobby Bronson, homicide detective. Sometimes put on probation duty if work is slow.”

“Slow? When is slow a bad thing when it comes to murder?”

Bobby rolls his eyes, wiping the droplets of water on his torso. He accidentally touches his dick and moans, imagining Lenny’s long fingers wrapped around it, rubbing him at a steady pace.

“Don’t. What is wrong with you? Keep it in your pants, you’re already late for work.”

Bobby snarls at Graham through the mirror and tosses the towel to the floor. “Fuck you.” He attempts to open the bathroom door- his back toward the mirror- only to have Will stop them and reaches down to hang the towel on the rod. 

Are you always this rude towards Lenny?

Bobby clenches his fist at the accusation. “I’m not. Would you shut the fuck up. You’re the one who said we’re late.” He rushes out the bathroom, grabs said clothes from the closest and buttons his shirt on the way out of Lenny’s apartment. A faint I love you slips through the door, making Bobby grip the knob and stop in his tracks.

Afraid to say it back, Bronson?

I could say the same for you, Graham. His ‘therapist’ literally spelled it out for you.

That shuts Will up as Bobby gently closes the door and skips the steps down the apartment building. He takes quick strides towards his car and fishes the keys out of his jacket with a bit of struggle and it falls to the ground. “Fuck.” Bobby bends down to grab his keys and finally gets in, slams the door, and starts the car.

“You have a lot of aggression for a cop. I can’t believe you’re still in the force.”

Bobby glares at Graham in the rearview mirror. “Because I do my job even if someone gets a bruise or two.”

“Is that why Lenny gets scared of your tone sometimes?”

Bobby bites the inside of his cheek and rubs his face. “Don’t you have something better to do than haunt me?”

Will smirks. “Huh, you think I’m a ghost? I’m in your head, Bronson. It’s as messed up as mine.”

Bobby grips the steering wheel and steps hard on the brakes when the light turns red. He turns around to find no one in the back seat. Usually in these cases, a man would really be sitting in the back, waving at him. At least… that’s from the movies Lenny would make him watch. Bobby reaches his hand out, hoping to at least feel a cold spot, but none. He turns back to the road and hears himself laugh at a different octave.

“Like I said, Bronson. I’m not a ghost. I’m in your head. Maybe you are that kind of crazy.”

Bobby growls, stepping on the gas and turning on the radio to drown out Graham.

“I’m in your head. I know what you’re about to do.” Will stops talking through Bobby's mouth and instead taps into their shared consciousness. I can just turn my volume down enough to mess with you in your head.

Måneskin’s Own My Mind starts playing, making Bobby's mood sour tenfold.

How ironic. Not your day is it?

Bobby stares daggers at Graham through the rearview mirror. “What do you want? If you aren’t a ghost, then what the fuck are you?”

Did you want me to answer-

“Say it outloud damn it. You're driving me crazy and I'm not at work yet.”

Will sniffs before replying, “I'm human just like you, but I'm stuck in your head after falling off a cliff. I just want to get through the nine days and get out of your body.”

Bobby laughs, taking a left. “What kind of shitshow have you been to? Your explanation sounds like bullshit.”

Will lets out an exasperated sigh, opting to stare at the road as well. “You literally have access to my memories. You called me out for not saying I love you. What else could you possibly want as proof?” He controls Bronson's right hand and slaps their cheek, causing them to swerve.

“What the fuck?!” Bobby steers the car back in the lane. “Are you trying to get us killed?!”

Will merely shakes his head, exasperated at the rudeness of his host. Both opt for silence despite the tension rising in the car. Constricting would be the word to describe their current predicament; like an umbilical cord wrapping a sibling's neck inside their mother's womb.

“Can you not be so morbid, Graham? We already have to deal with dead bodies for a living,” Bobby scolds the ex FBI agent and parks into his usual spot. He takes two spaces and switches off the engine. He glances at the rearview mirror to see Graham shaking his head at him. Bobby licks his cheek, turning the engine back on, lets it warm up and fixes his parking. “Happy? For a cannibal you're morally upright.”

“I am not a cannibal. Fuck off, Bronson.”

Bobby smirks, turning off the ignition, gets out of the car, and locks it. He pulls on the handle to check and grunts when he confirms it's locked. He ambles into the station and takes his seat across from Durst, his partner. “Anything new, detective?”

The young man with light brown hair and long lashes gives Bobby an exasperated look. “You're late again. I'm surprised you don't smell like alcohol.” Bobby rolls his eyes, waving his middle finger at him.

“You know I haven't drank in six months. Fuck you.” Bobby leans down and presses the start button on the CPU.

“Right, right cause you have a boyfriend.”

Bobby sits up, glaring at his partner. “Shut it, Durst. I haven't told everyone about last Sunday. Don't test me.”

Durst pales and raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just… we have a ton of paperwork from the last murder we solved. You ruined their fence by driving into it and beating the wrong guy. Be thankful they didn't press charges since you found out about the affair.”

Bobby ignores the last bit and opens his email to download the form. The hours go by like this. Paperwork, small chats, occasional calls for cats on trees and kids egging houses. But the theme song of Star Wars stops the bustle in the office. Bobby is too focused to notice, his eyes glued to the probation tracker on the desktop.

Name: Henry Marble

Age: 45

Status: High Risk

Crime: Repeated Sex Offender (Victims vary; doesn't spare anyone)

This man was one of Bobby's first decent arrests ever since he straightened out because of Lenny’s positive influence in his life. He wasn't gay or bi or anything, but Lenny is different. Bobby rubs his eyes, staring at the red dot on the map. Media Wisps is the name of the location the dot was hovering over. It's been there for almost an hour and it's around 3 meters from crossing the allowed distance.

“Psst, Bronson. I think your phone is ringing. Everyone is staring,” Durst whispers, trying to kick Bobby from under the table. Bobby frowns, glancing around and realizing Lenny's ringtone was playing. He glares at everyone, prompting them to look away.

“What? A guy can't have a nerdy ringtone? Fuck you all. Stop being nosy,” Bobby growls, taking the phone out of his jacket and opens his flip phone.

Heavy breathing echoes through the receiver, making Bobby abruptly stand, his chair falling back. Lenny often calls him at work, but it was usually after their shifts. It’s the middle of the day, this one is weird. Lenny also starts the conversation, either with a new movie title or have you watched?

“Hello?”

Lenny gulps before replying, “B-Bobby… I think we have a c-criminal in the store.”

A cold knife stabs through Bobby's heart as worry seeps through his chest.

His partner is in danger.

His boyfriend is in danger.

Lenny IS in DANGER.

“Hey, hey. Breathe with me. Take a deep breath.” Bobby inhales deeply, waiting for Lenny to repeat after him. “Breath out.” He exhales, hearing Lenny copy him on the other end. Fuck, he was doing this mainly for himself than Lenny.

I can't allow myself to spiral, not like this. Not when Lenny's life is on the line.

Bobby closes his eyes and uses Lenny's breathing as his anchor to keep himself from looking worried. This situation was his to deal with alone.

Bronson, pull yourself together. Look at the screen and ask Lenny about the name of his video store.

Bobby's eyes open, staring at the screen. He looks around and makes sure no one was paying attention before asking, “Babe… What's the name of your store?”

“M-Media Wisps.”

Bobby's heart plummets. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

“T-There's a man threatening one of my customers,” Lenny whispers. “I'm scared, B-Bobby.”

As quick as lighting, Lenny’s words snap Bobby out of his daze. He moves like clockwork; he puts his phone between his ear and shoulder, wears his jacket, and checks his holster. Bobby grips the gun before holding the phone and picks his chair back up. “I'm coming. Stay on the line with me, okay?” He rushes out of the station, ignoring Durst's calls. Bobby jumps over the hood and slides to the driver's side, pushing his key into his door. “Baby, are you still there?”

“I know you're under the counter. Get out of there, faggot. Are you calling your cop boyfriend?”

Bobby freezes, wearing his seatbelt. Fuck… how long has this dickwad been watching his and Lenny's relationship? Where else have they been followed?

“I said get out or I'm stabbing her!”

Lenny's closed eyes and pained look flashes in Bobby's mind as his worry heightens. “B-Bobby, what do I do?”

Fuck, there's another person involved. Lenny is going to get hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

SLAP

Bobby is suddenly staring outside his window, seeing Durst rushing out of the station. His eyes dart to the side view mirror and sees Graham, calmly staring at him.

“Get your head right, Bronson. You're a detective. Your boyfriend is in danger. You can't afford to spiral.” Bobby's cheek stings, noticing his phone on the floor. He reaches down and picks it up.

“Hello? Bobby? Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah. I'm here. Never end the call, just… just stay with me.” Bobby starts his car and floors it out of the parking lot, leaving Durst looking annoyed in the rearview mirror. “Lenny, baby. Are you still there?”

Lenny’s blood-curdling screams reverberate through the speaker. The sound of shuffling echoes before the raspy voice of their assailant says, “Better make it quick, detective. You have quite an attractive partner. Have you deflowered him yet?”

CLICK

Bobby growls, throwing his phone on the dashboard. He hits the gas, only to abruptly step on the brakes as well. There's traffic right in front of him and he isn't sure he can get to Lenny in time. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

“Get your shit together, Bronson. You're a few minutes away. You can't let his taunt get to you.”

“And what if he does wreck Lenny, huh? What then Graham?”

Will forces Bobby's eyes to look at him through the rear view mirror. “Then deal with it when you see it. You're stuck right now. What can you do? Think Bronson.”

“Why the fuck are you helping me?” Bobby snarls at Graham through the rearview mirror. He's stunned by the incredible bloodlust reflecting back at him. They're both enraged by the situation. Righteous vengeance echoes through their head.

Bobby blinks, directing his rage-filled eyes toward the street. Both sides are jam packed with cars and horns being honked. In front of the long line of traffic is the faint outline of Lenny’s store. Bobby searches for another way and spots the sidewalk that barely has passerbys. He checks behind him and no car has followed the line and there's just the right space for Bobby's car to slip into the sidewalk and drive through.

“You're not seriously considering the sidewalk?” Will takes control of their body, gripping the steering wheel til their fingers turn white.

“Fuck you. He's the only good thing in my life right now and I'd be damned to let him slip away.” Bobby retorts, forcing his body to step on the gas, easing his grip, and backing away from the traffic. Bobby expertly drives through the other side, getting to the pavement and driving on it to get to the store.

“Get off the sidewalk! You're disrupting property!” One of the bystanders scolds as he stands in the way.

Bobby curses, stepping on the breaks. He grabs the red light he usually uses in pursuits and places it on top of the roof. “I'm a cop, asshole. And I'm on official business. Now get out of the fucking way!” He flips them off as the bystander shuts up and steps to the side. Bobby changes gears and steps on the gas, speedily driving toward the video store. As he reaches the shop, the familiar buzzcut of Henry Marble emerges. He's leaving the front door, ankle tag in hand, and blood splatter on his clothes.

Bobby sees red, instincts taking over. He turns off the car and opens the door, sprinting towards the store. Marble doesn't see Bobby until he gets tackled to the floor. Bobby grips his collar and bashes Marble's head with his, making the man groan. A barrage of powerful punches rain down on the attacker until he raises a knife. Marble attempts to stab Bobby's side, but Will takes over. He blocks the knife with his left hand over his cheek, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Will takes out the knife from the middle of their hand and points it over the man's abdomen. The man momentarily morphs into Francis Dolarhyde, drowning in his blood. Will's eyes flutter, the image shifts just as Lenny's voice grounds them; bring Bobby back in control of his body.

“Bobby! Bobby, please! Don’t stab him!”

Bobby looks down, Lenny's hand bleeding over the man’s abdomen. His fingers stop the blade and his gaze trails upwards, meeting Lenny's soft eyes. Lenny smiles at him, cupping his face. “You're back. You definitely have some explaining to do, but I know something is up with your head. Kinda reminds me of Self/Less, the movie we watched last week… But I don't think that's the case here.”

A burst of relief engulfs Bobby as he calms down and releases the knife. Lenny discards it beside him, hissing at the pain. A secret smile etches its way to Bobby's lips as pride fills him. Lenny usually couldn't handle pain or anything that's scary, but he stopped the knife to keep Bobby from killing someone. Forgetting the company they had in the store, Bobby leans in and kisses Lenny's forehead. He lingers before turning to look at the attacker and sees euphoria in the man's eyes.

“How sweet. Too bad not all stories have a happy ending.” Marble snatches the gun out of Bobby's holster and points it at Lenny. Bobby pulls Lenny to his chest and leans back as a shot is fired.

FWOOP

Bobby bites his lip as the bullet pierces through his shoulder and cleanly goes out. He kicks the gun up, catching it. Bobby cocks the gun and points it at Marble. “Move and you're dead.” The offender freezes, raising his hands to his head. Lenny gets off Bobby, allowing Bobby to reach out to the man. Instead of cuffing him though, Will takes the opportunity to stare down at the attacker and wraps his fingers around the neck of the man. His thumbs press down on the man's trachea, constricting his airways. A myriad of short memories echo in their head.

“Guns lack intimacy.”

“How would you kill me, Will?”

“With my hands.”

What the fuck are you doing, Graham?! Let him go. I don't want Lenny to see me killing him!

Will blinks, releasing the man just as he was able to render him unconscious. The tension leaves their body almost immediately upon seeing Marble’s eyes close shut. Bobby sits back on his ass, lets go of the gun, and examines the situation. There's an unconscious woman with her skirt up to his right and Lenny has a bleeding nose. Bobby immediately tucks a finger under Lenny's chin and tilts his head up to stop the blood. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, but my sides hurt. He did get a few punches out before trying to strip me.”

Bobby's eyes widen, properly looking at Lenny. His shirt was off, his hair disheveled. Angry red scratches on his chest. Bobby turns to look at Marble and attempts to grab for the knife again, but Lenny miraculously tackles him to the ground; Lenny hovering over Bobby, holding his hands above his head. Bobby's dick hardens, staring at Lenny's intense look. It's rare to see him angry or show emotions at all, but this was a treasure. Bobby savors it, so does Will. A young Hannibal staring at Will with this intensity makes Will crave to be in Hannibal's presence again… A look of being seen as you are, accepts you for it.

“Stop… please. I don't want you suspended again.” Lenny admits, hissing at the ache of his arms. Bobby nods at his boyfriend as someone walks through the door. Bobby pushes Lenny off him and sits up seeing Durst's disapproving but relieved look.

“Thank God he's here to stop you from doing something rash. I got back up outside if this jerk tries anything. Do you want to do the honors?” Durst offers the hand cuffs. Bobby shakes his head, starting to feel light headed.

“I'm feeling dizzy, I think I lost a lot of blood,” Bobby announces, eyes rolling back. He hears a faint call of his name before his vision turns to black.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Bobby gasps, sitting up and frowning to see a man with curls on his head sitting across him on his chair. He’s got scars on his face, one on his forehead and another on his cheek. He's also reading one of Lenny's movie journals.

“Graham? How am I able to see you?”

Will looks up and grins. “You're up. That took a while. They seem to have finally transfused blood into you.”

Bobby frowns, looking down on himself to see an IV attached to his arm. “You're not answering the fucking question.”

Will closes the journal. “We're in our shared memory palace. I don't fully understand why, but you're my second host.”

“Host? What is this? The science fiction film with Sasorie Ronan?”

Will raises a brow and scoffs. “Careful, your macho man persona is slipping. Look at you, enjoying your boyfriend's proclivities.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, leaning back on the bed and hissing. Even in the memory palace, the physical injuries are reflected. Instead, Bobby pushes himself on his other arm to lean on the headboard. “You did too before betraying him. What type of dick are you?”

“Circumcised. I have a catholic background.”

Bobby chokes on his own spit and starts coughing, making Graham smirk. “What the shit, Graham? Are you actually gay for Lecter?”

Will raises a brow as a whiskey bottle and glass appear on the coffee table. A similar set up but with beer appears on the bedside table for Bobby. “And if I am, would you insult me like you do to yourself? Especially after every time you let Lenny suck you off.”

Bobby glares at Graham. “Stop teasing me for my relationship with Lenny. You’re probably jealous you can’t have it with Lecter.”

Frowning, Will hums, digesting the statement. Was he jealous? Was that why these jibes come out of him so naturally? “What makes Lenny so special? You haven't felt attraction to a man except to him.” He asks, ignoring the attack.

Bobby frowns, staring up at the ceiling; it's pitch black. “I can ask you the same thing. What makes Lecter different? This is your first time too.”

Will scoffs, turning away and reaching for the whiskey and glass. “We're not talking about me right now, Bronson. I asked you first. It's only right for you to answer before I do.”

“Yeah? Then tell me about why you keep choosing Lecter despite all the shit he put you through.”

I need to be drunk for this. Will pours two licks of whiskey and gulps the liquid as it burns his throat. Bittersweet would be the best word to describe his relationship with Hannibal… whatever they had. “An unspoken pact to ignore the worst in one another to continue enjoying the best.”

Bobby raises a brow, judging Graham. “You're… wow, you're fucked. You've fallen so hard in the toxic cycle. You'd eat humans with him? What is wrong with you?”

“Hypocrite. You insult me for my feelings when you can't even begin to process yours. Does Lenny know that you loathe yourself for the very relationship you have with him?” Will watches as the judgement turns to anger. Bronson stands up from the bed and takes quick strides to get to him. Bronson grips his collar, pulling him up so they were face to face.

“Fuck. You.” Bobby growls, pouring himself two licks of whiskey and downing it without a thought.

“You just broke your promise to Lenny.”

“This doesn't count. I'm in my own fucking head with a look alike.” Bobby snaps, banging the glass on the table. “You think you're so fucking righteous. You think you can mess with my head. My father did that for me already so fuck you.” He bashes his forehead to Will's and they tumble back.

“What the hell, Bronson?” Will’s scar throbs, reminding him of the time he had encephalitis.

Bobby laughs, wiping the blood off his head, smearing it in the process. “You wanted to talk about relationships, didn't you? You fucking proded until you got a reaction. How different are you from Lecter, huh?”

Will licks the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes as the throbbing intensifies. He thinks of an aspirin and one appears in his palm. He pops it in his mouth and swallows, finding solace in the familiar action. Will pours himself another glass and sits back on the chair. Bronson retreats to his bed as they let the silence fill the room for a while. Both men giving the other time to actually think about their emotions.

“I’m not usually a feelings guy, but Lenny makes me feel stuff… too much most times.” Bobby breaks the silence, removing the cap on his Corolla and taking a swig. “Fuck, are we actually doing this?”

Will laughs bitterly, pouring another glass. “We are. You almost died from blood loss. Might as well. Does it look like you’ll actually talk to a therapist?”

Bobby laughs with him, downing his beer as a sixer appears beside him. Bobby moans, loving the bitter taste of his poison of choice. “Not gonna lie, I do miss the taste of this. I can’t believe I can drink here, but I’m getting too drunk to even feel guilty.”

Will leans back, staring up at the ceiling. Stars start to sparkle, making him think about Hannibal. Would our stars align? Are we looking at the same stars despite being lost in timelines?

“You’re turning sappy, Graham. Are you sure you don’t love Lecter?”

“I’m not entirely sure anymore,” Will admits, finishing his third glass of whiskey. Or was it four? “I haven’t had sexual relations with a man nor have I entertained the thought before Hannibal came.” Will gently puts the glass on the table and rubs his face. His heart eerie feels light despite thinking of Hannibal. It’s usually in turmoil like a winter’s storm. But now… he feels light and a bit numb. This is definitely the alcohol.

“It’s not just that and you know it.” Bobby leans his head back and sees a precious moment of Lenny. It’s one of their earlier dates when he brought him to a drive by cinema to watch all the Halloween movies. It was the first time Lenny initiated physical touch. A simple gesture of course, just hand holding. But it meant so much since Lenny didn’t trust easy nor did he allow anyone in but he let an asshole like Bobby near him… to lo…

“Fuck off. Look who’s being sappy now. Ready to say the magic words?” Will glares at Bobby through the gaps of his hand.

Bobby ignores him, smiling at the memory above him. It starts to shift as various images of Lenny appear side by side.

Lenny’s locks hanging over his eye as he gets out of the shower with only briefs on. The droplets dripping down his chest makes Bobby lick his lips.

Lenny peacefully lies down on their shared bed, mouth gaped and a soft snore filling the room.

Lenny’s eyes sparkling at the treasure trove of Blu-ray DVDs Bobby bought from a bargain sale. It was a mix of horror classics like Halloween and Hell Raiser to romance like Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind and Maid of Honor. But there’s also the rare 10th Anniversary Edition of Star Trek The Motion Picture.

Bobby’s smile turns into a frown as the scene changes into one of their biggest fights.

“I can’t… I can’t continue this with you, Lenny. I’m sorry.” Bobby states, standing up from his position on the long couch and preparing to leave. He doesn’t turn around, fearful for Lenny’s expression. Instead, soft fingers wrap around his fisted hand then squeezes it. Bobby pulls away like being touched by scalding hot iron. “Don’t… don’t fucking do that. You’re too good for me, Lenny. I’ll only destroy you from here on out. I can’t do that to you.”

“I know you have a lot of issues to work through… You’re still grieving your divorce. You drink every chance you get. You’re angry with the world and if this relationship only adds to that resentment… I won’t be part of it. I don’t want you to feel forced to stay with me because I’m weak and you see me as something to protect. I packed your things when you called earlier. Take them with you as you leave. I don’t want to remember the pain of breaking up with you.”

“He’s strong for saying that and you take him for granted,” Will observes, his heart clenching at how similar Lenny dealt with Bobby’s internal turmoil. Will did the same with Hannibal after having severe anguish.

Bobby doesn’t bat an eye, merely staring up at himself and his crestfallen face when he sees Lenny silently crying when he said those words. “My father was a drunkard. Often beat me when he’s had too much. I brought home a male friend once and he beat me to a pulp, accusing me for being a faggot.” Bobby scoffs, downing one bottle of beer in one go.

“I remember him yelling, ‘You fucking fairy! Your mother left us for another bitch and here you are, showing signs of being a faggot too!’ He then punched the shit out of me, I couldn’t go to school the next day. He was so drunk, he thought I was kissing my friend but we were just wrestling over the TV remote control.” Bobby opens another bottle and takes a long swig. “I hated him for it ever since. Never entertained the idea of being gay or bi or whatever kids call it these days. I only got with my wife cause she was hot as hell and I did want kids. But that fell apart too when her love ran out. I became a worse drunk and then Lenny…” Bobby grins, taking a sip of his beer; the guilt finally setting in even if it’s all just in his head.

“Lenny saved me from everything else. He has been patient with me ever since he found me. Have you invaded my head and saw what he did when we first met?”

Will shakes his head, taking a sip of his eighth glass. “No. I don’t particularly like doing that.”

Bobby gives him a relieved smile and looks Will in the eye. “He told me, ‘You stink. Don’t lean over me like that if you’re trying to get my number.’ Then proceeds to care for me for the rest of the night. I fucking beat him up when I woke up in his house, naked. Turns out he got tired dealing with me and left me on his bed while he slept on the couch. Who fucking falls for an asshole like that?”

“Lenny apparently. You’re a fucking nightmare,” Will mumbles, feeling a pang of jealously. He had an intimate relationship with Hannibal and blew it. Married a woman and ultimately came back to him because Hannibal IS family, the only one. And yet… he chose to kill them.

“Have you felt attraction to other men aside from Lenny? Especially when you realized you were into him?” Will asks, distracting himself from the guilt of possibly killing the one person who would accept him.

Bobby hums, taking one last sip and discarding the bottle. “No. I know how sick other men are. Lenny is the exception because of the bond we share. That’s it.”

A frown makes its way to Will’s face. How can it be simple to answer that?

“You do know I can hear you, right?” Bobby points out, raising a brow at Graham.

“Just shut up for a minute. I have to think and you’re not helping.” Will snaps, taking a deep breath. “You only care about the bond. Why didn’t you keep your relationship platonic, friendly?”

Bobby hums, slipping under the covers. He hisses when the blanket grazes his arm. Bobby leans on his back and tucks his arm under his head. “I love him too much to let him go to another man or woman or anyone else. I’m a selfish bastard, I just know I want him for myself.”

Both men stare at each other, processing what they just said and heard. Bobby sits up, rubbing his face. “Holy shit… I fucking said it. Graham, I love Lenny.”

Will’s brain is buffering, he isn’t sure if the jealousy and happiness is from himself or a reflection of the man across from him. “Yes, congratulations.”

Bobby laughs, feeling dumbfounded. “Who knew all it took was a person to ask me that specific question?” He covers his mouth as a yawn comes out. “What about you then? What’s stopping you from being intimate with Lecter?”

Will swallows the lump in his throat as tears pooled on his lids. ”Abandonment requires expectation. My mother left me when I was young. My father pretty much just accompanied me throughout my life. The closest I had to family… my uncle betrayed me and treated me like trash in front of his second family. Imagine telling your own nephew to pay for an antique fishing line that my grandfather specifically bought for me. He said I had to pay half of it when my father and I moved since my grandfather paid for half of it. ” Will pours himself another glass and downs it aggressively. “Companionship and family do not register in my head anymore. All that's left are unsavory thoughts paired with heightened empathy… Easier to just stay alone than deal with all the drama… at least before Hannibal came along.” Will sniffs as the tears spring forth. 

Bobby isn’t sure what to do with the scene before him, but Lenny did teach him to serve a hot beverage when someone is feeling down. At the thought, a cup filled with tea appears on the coffee table in front of Graham. “There’s tea on the table. Drink it. It won’t make you feel better, but it helps with the nerves.”

Will smiles at Bronson and takes a sip of the tea before continuing, “I couldn’t handle it if I got too close to Hannibal and he just flat out abandoned me like he did when I was trying to get him incarcerated. He’s the only thing in my life that understands me and wants to be with me.” The heaviness lifts from Will’s chest at the admission. Fuck, I genuinely miss Hannibal and may love him the way he wants to be loved.

“You’re whipped. He literally cut you open twice and you still want him.”

Will rolls his eyes, leaning on the chair to get comfortable. “Shut up, Bronson. No one asked for your opinion.”

“It’s your fault! You got him injured. Why are you even here?”

Bobby frowns, turning to look at Graham. “You can hear that right?”

“Yeah. I think you’re about to wake up. Good luck, Bronson.”

Just as Will said that, Bobby’s vision blackens as he forces his eyes open. He sees Tina about to slap Lenny and moves forward, ignoring the ache on his arm. Bobby pulls Lenny toward his chest and catches the slap to the face. His cheek stings as his ex-wife gasps.

“Bobby! Thank god! What the fuck have you been doing? Who is this man?” Tina eyes Lenny and the secure arm Bobby has around Lenny’s waist before meeting Bobby’s eyeline.

Bobby sits back on the bed, tightening his hold around Lenny to support himself. “One at a time, Tina. I'm fucking hurting. We're divorced doesn't mean you still get to boss me around.”

Tina frowns, the worry seeping away as the asshole behavior comes back full force. “Right, I remember why we separated.”

Eyes roll as Bobby gets comfortable and lets go of Lenny. Tina continues to watch the interaction, starting to feel a pang of jealousy. “I've been on probation duty. Our town is mostly safe from murderers, don't you like that? Our daughters can get home safe at night.” Bobby points his open palm at Lenny. “This is Lenny, a… friend.”

Fuck me, I'm a coward.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Right, cause the great detective Bronson finally saves the day, too busy to update his emergency contact information. We've been separated for almost a year and you haven't changed it.” Tinna scoffs accusingly.

Bobby scowls, wanting to be alone with Lenny. He ignores Tina, scrutinizing his boyfriend instead. Lenny's hand is wrapped in linen and he’s wearing a similar gown to his. A frown sits on his face and guilt floods through his veins. He vaguely remembers telling Lenny he'd update his emergency contact information, but burglary at a convenience store was happening and he never got to do it.

“Bronson, I asked you a question. Don't ignore me.”

Bobby sighs, licking his lips and rubbing his face. “Would you quit your nagging? You're not my wife anymore.” He looks at Tina who is raising a brow. “I got it. Now you've seen me alive and well. You can tell the girls and Andrew that I saved the day. You can leave now.”

Tina takes a step forward, attempting to slap Bobby, but Lenny catches it instead. Both adults now stare at the young man in shock. “What do you think you're doing?” Tina inquires, glaring at Lenny.

“Mr. Bronson is hurt. If you're only going to take your anger and worry out on him, I suggest you leave.” Lenny sternly and calmly replies.

“Who are you to even tell me that? Even if Bobby knows you. I don't know how deep your relationship is. You could another crimilar for all I know. I should call the cops on you.”

“I am the cops, Tina.” Bobby retorts, feeling the tension in the room thicken.

“Wow. Just wow. I'm here trying to find out why a strange man in a hospital gown is with you in your room and you're being sassy? I was looking out for you since you had anxiety being in a room with another man before.”

Wow, aren't you a hunk. Your past and present are in the room, fighting over you.

You’re not helping, Graham. Sh-

“Shut up.” Bobby growls as the room turns silent. His eyes widened as he realized what happened.

You fucked up.

I wouldn't have if you didn't tease me, Graham. Shut up a minute. I'm trying to think.

With a deep breath, Bobby replies, “Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude. I just need to rest and I would like to be alone with Lenny. He's the one I was trying to protect. Now if you'll excuse us, Tina, I need to interview a witness.”

With one last scornful look, Tina nods in understanding and turns to leave the room. Bobby watches as she leaves the room with a bang on the door. He sighs in relief. He waits for Lenny to come sit by his side, but the man is glaring at the floor in deep thought.

“Lenny? Baby? Something on your mind?” His voice snaps Lenny out of his reverie. Lenny's expression morphs into his usual soft stare when he turns to look at him.

“Hmmm? Sorry. I was thinking about how I'd clean the rag in the store. It has too much blood.”

Bobby frowns at the lie. Lenny’s right hand has his thumb tucked under all the fingers indicating his tell. Bobby lets it slide, too tired to even question him. “Come sit beside me. Are you still feeling sore?”

Lenny smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He shakes his head. “No, I feel fine actually and visitation hours are almost up so I can't stay long. They said I could go home. I'll come visit you when I'm off work. Goodnight, Bobby.” Lenny attempts to walk away, but Bobby moves quickly. He reaches forward and hisses when he deliberately extends his injured arm. Lenny immediately turns around and rushes to Bobby's side. “Are you alright?”

Bobby grins, wrapping an arm around Lenny’s torso, keeping him in place.

Sneaky, Bronson. No wonder people don't like you.

Go somewhere else for fuck's sake. You almost got my head chewed off.

You deserved it.

Bobby ignores the last jibe and hugs Lenny tighter. “Yeah… I'm good. Just pulled on my stitches for a moment… you do know I could read you like the back of my hand, right?” he stares Lenny straight in the eye, seeing a brief look of guilt before his face turns into a blank canvas again.

“I swear it's nothing. I'm really getting worried that a doctor would come in and kick me out. I don't like being called out for something I could have prevented.” Lenny states, trying to pry Bobby's arms open.

Bobby sighs, knowing he can't change his boyfriend's mind. “Alright, fine. We'll talk about it when I get home. Give me something to remember you by before leaving?”

Lenny raises a brow and peaks at the small clear gap of the door. No one was coming their way. He looks back at Bobby and grins, cupping his cheek and leaning down. Chapped lips meet each other in an endearing kiss. Bobby holds himself back from taking over the kiss. He savors it instead. There's a certain delightful kick from sneaking around, but this kiss was more comforting. The way Lenny's lips glide over Bobby's is like a soft embrace of assurance. And the way Bobby slightly pulls away and licks Lenny's chin, going up, and meeting his lips again sends a pleasurable shiver down both their spines. Bobby pulls away, lifting Lenny's injured hand to his lips and kisses the inside of his palm. He trails wet, kisses his arm until he reaches Lenny's neck and bites down, leaving a hickey. Lenny moans and it goes straight to Bobby's dick, hardening it. Lenny bites down on his neck as well, licking the bite.

“Fu-ck,” Bobby groans, pulling away and bumping their heads together. If it weren't for his injuries, they'd be home by now… mutually masturbating, possibly frotting or fucking rather than this emotionally-charged kiss. Lenny chuckles, kissing Bobby's nose and squeezing Bobby's length under the gown.

“Looks like someone will miss me,” Lenny whispers, feeling pre-cum wet the thin garment.

“Looks like I'm not the only one,” Bobby replies, squeezing Lenny's erection through his gown as well. Lenny moans, licking his lips.

“Get well soon and come home early.” Lenny plants a chaste kiss on Bobby's lips before taking one big step back from Bobby. He breathes heavily, willing himself to calm down before walking out the door.

“Stay safe, baby. Remember the Falcon Dive?”

Lenny raises a brow, smirking at Bobby. “Of course I do. I still have the taser gun you gave me last month and my height… I thought you didn't like Mizu?”

“People change. Now go, we can't have the doctor scolding you.”

Warmth returns to Lenny's eyes and gives Bobby an extra boost to survive the lonely days ahead. He knows Lenny wouldn't visit often, not after Tina's stunt today. Thought it was mostly Bobby's fault for not keeping his promise. He watches as Lenny fixes his disheveled gown and walks out the door with a soft I love you. As the door clicks, Bobby whispers the sentiment to the empty room.

“Coward,” Will mocks, appearing in the window by Bobby's left side. Sunset was about to end.

“So are you. You pushed yourself and Lecter off a cliff after his confession.” Bobby retorts, glaring at Will's reflection.

“Shut up, Bronson. Or I’ll knock you out and fuck Lenny myself when we get out of here.” Will threatens, feeling guilt stem from their chest.

“I fucking dare you, Graham.” Bobby growls just as a nurse opens the door with a frown.

“Mr. Bronson, is there someone else in here with you? Visiting hours ended ten minutes ago.” She states, looking around.

“No. Is there something you need?” Bobby doesn't take his eyes off Will's reflection. The man was in the same hospital bed, only he had his curls still.

“I have to check your stitches, sir.” The nurse replies, walking towards Bobby.

Will's reflection raises his middle finger at him, making a vein appear on Bobby's temple. Their stay in the hospital is going to be a long one.

~~~~~⭐️~~~~~

Bobby stays in the hospital for three more days before getting discharged. Of course, now he has to deal with Graham constantly being in his head which also means no spicy time with Lenny because he is a jealous man. And that also leads to contributing more doubts in Lenny's head which equates to Lenny distancing himself from Bobby. Of course, Bobby gets called back immediately to work, leaving them no time to talk.

Will takes it upon himself to make them have time so he files for a three day leave for Bronson. The first day being the ninth day of Will's stay. Too much time was wasted by these two just walking around each other's eggshells; leading to the fucking arguement they're having right now.

Currently, Lenny is unfazed, still staring at the TV while Bobby blocks his view of it. “Lenny, what the shit is this stunt?”

“Step away from the screen, please. You're blocking my view for my David Tennant Doctor Who rerun.” Lenny states, leaning on his arm.

Bobby grunts, snatching the remote from the coffee table before turning the tv off.

“I was watching, Mr. Bronson. It was just getting to the good part too. The adipose were about to merge.” Lenny sighs, sitting up. “How can I help you?”

“Will you stop avoiding me and tell me why you packed my shit again. I thought we were past this?”

Lenny scoffs for the first time.

Pride fills Bobby despite the dire situation they're in. He's learning.

Lenny sighs, rubbing his face and covering it. The tears were already spilling. He's been trying so hard to distract himself from this decision. Bobby avoiding him for almost a week from his discharge is just agonizing. But he can't have Bobby see him like this. He can't look weak, it'd spur Bobby to pity him and stay with him even if he doesn't love him. It's too much.

“Bobby… I'm tired. Genuinely tired. I can't deal with the uncertainty you give me anymore.” Lenny's voice cracks, giving away his current state. “You still love your wife. You'll never accept that you're gay or bisexual or whatever kids use these days. You're a bitter old man who doesn't know who he is. I can't have you using me to find yourself only and leave me… I just can't. So leave as early as now. I'll manage, but if I can't have all of you then let's fucking stop this right now.”

Lenny's words cut through Bobby’s heart and twisted it inside. The pain feels like thorns constricting his heart until it shreds to pieces. “Lenny-”

“No! Just go!” Sobs wreak Lenny's body, unable to hide his crying anymore. “I am begging you, Bobby… just go. I'm not weak. I can stand on my own. I don't need you to protect me anymore.”

Bobby gulps the lump in his throat and takes quick strides around the coffee table to get to Lenny. He kneels on one knee and tries to pry his fingers away from his face. Lenny doesn't budge, pushing Bobby away. But the man keeps coming back, firmer, stronger. Until finally, Bobby slips his hand through the space between Lenny's arms and grips his wrists, pinning him on either side of his head. Red eyes meet Bobby's emeralds, finally shattering his heart to pieces. He's seen Lenny cry of course, but never because of him. Even during their other fights, Lenny keeps to himself and cries away from him. When they come back together, Lenny smiles.

“Oh fuck… baby… shit, I…”

Now or never, Bronson.

I can deal with it, Graham. Stay out of this.

“Give me a moment, it's kinda hard to admit this.” Bobby tenderly bumps his forehead to Lenny's and straddles him on their couch. He closes his eyes, deeply breathing in then breathing out. He mentally prepares himself as the internalized homophobia comes back to him tenfold. Fucking memories of his dad flood his brain and he loosen's his grip on Lenny's wrists. From the beating to the same friend spreading to the class he was gay… to the fucking criminals that hurt the people in the community-

Warm fingers cup his face, wiping away the tears he didn't notice are cascading down his cheeks. Bobby opens his eyes and his mind gets quiet as Lenny’s concerned eyes pierces through him. He smiles, cupping Lenny’s face and rubbing the tips of their noses together.

Sap, get it over with already.

I told you to stay out of this. I'm going to fuck you up if you don't.

Is that a challenge, Bronson?

Bobby ignores Graham and nervously licks his lips before stating, “If you really wanted to let me go, you wouldn't have put my things in front of the TV. You wanted me here even if it hurt.” Bobby is unfazed despite Lenny’s concern turning into a glare. “That's aside the point… Fuck…” He laughs, taking another deep breath. He breathes out and says, “I know I've been distant and it's not just because of work… You weren't wrong about the Self/Less reference last week. I have another voice in my head I'd rather not have when we're together. You are the only good thing in my life, Lenny. I don't ever pity you. You may look weak, but you're much stronger than me.”

Lenny tries to speak, but Bobby lays a finger on his lips. “Don't say anything yet. Just let me start and finish what I have to say.” Bobby kisses Lenny's forehead. “You know who you are even before we met. I admired you for that. You bonded with me despite not knowing my tattered past.” He kisses the space between Lenny's brows. “My father accused me of being gay and beat me up when I had a friend over. Believe it or not, we were just wrestling for the remote control and he just burst.” Bobby kisses under Lenny's right eye. “That same friend told the school I was gay so I had to toughen the fuck up.” He kisses under Lenny's left eye. “I internalized my homophobia from my environment and never allowed myself to explore. I got bitter, violent. Got married, had kids, got divorced.” Bobby kisses Lenny's nose. “You may say I'm using you to explore. I probably am, but I wouldn't have it any other way because…” He kisses the side of Lenny's lip.

“I'm not fucking gay, but I love you anyway.” Finally, Bobby confesses and  captures Lenny's lips in a searing kiss. The built up tension from last week leaves their body as their lips exchange blows. Tongues escaping their mouths, exploring the familiar territory they haven't tasted in so long. They were starving and devouring and holy shit, it is also getting Will Graham hot and bothered.

Fucking hell! This is my moment with Lenny, asshole. Get out.

I've been dealing with your yearning and feral energy for the last week. As my empathy is too strong, I felt it tenfold so forgive me if I'm enjoying myself as well.

“Bobby,” Lenny moans, arching upwards. Bobby comes back from the memory palace and thrusts his hips toward Lenny's, their hard-ons rubbing against each other.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want you to show me how much you love me.” Lenny reaches between them, opening his and Bobby's jeans. Lenny takes out his length just as Bobby's hangs outside; he didn't wear underwear.

Bobby feels his eyes dilate at the offer, contemplating if he should fuck Lenny or let Lenny fuck him.

Just pick one, damn it. I need my release, Bronson.

Fuck off, this is an important decision for me.

Then make it quick.

Lenny touches both their lengths, rubbing up then down at a slow pace. Bobby groans at the contact, pushing on the chair's back for support. The ultimate act of vulnerability as most movies say is getting naked in front of your partner and offering yourself to them. With that in mind, Bobby pulls Lenny above him on the couch. He lies on his back, smiling up at his baffled boyfriend.

“I want you to make love to me, Lenny.”

Lenny's brain short circuits, releasing both their members. He gulps and licks his lips, staring down at the strongest man he's ever met. “A-Are you-” Lenny clears his throat. “Are you sure?”

Bobby cups Lenny's face, leaning up to kiss him. “I've never been more sure in my life. You want everything with me, Lenny. I'm giving you all I am… my control.”

Lenny pulls his shirt over his head and dives down, lips hovering over Bobby's; barely touching. “Are you sure?”

Bobby rolls his eyes, wrapping his hands around Lenny's nape. “No matter how many fucking times you ask, the answer will always be the same.” Bobby moans, thrusting up to feel any semblance of relief.

Lenny smiles, planting chaste kisses down Bobby's chin then neck and biting Bobby's neck and sucking on it. Bobby grunts, cupping Lenny's cheek bringing him back for a sloppy kiss.

“Off,” Bobby gasps as their members graze each other and pre-cum pools at their tips. He tries to pull down their pants, but Lenny pins Bobby's hands over his head.

“Patience, Bobby. You can wait a while, can't you?” Lenny purrs, kissing down Bobby's chest. Their eyes meet as Lenny's tongue sinfully rolls out of his mouth, flicking Bobby's nipple before enveloping it whole with his mouth. Lenny pulls away, a trail of saliva follows him as he does the same to the other nipple. Booby's pleasure peaks, making his eyes roll back and his mind retreats into his memory palace.

Bobby opens his eyes and sees Graham laying on his bed. He's as naked as Bobby, length at attention. “Fucking wow. Your boyfriend has a tongue on him.” Will comments, staring up at the ceiling. Bobby follows his eye line and sees Lenny rubbing his nose on his sides and laying wet kisses on them alternately; worshipping him.

“Fucking leave us alone. I thought you weren't queer?” Bobby growls, diving on the bed, straddling Graham. He hovers over him and blocks his view

Will snarls, kicking Bobby off and shifting their positions; Will on top of Bobby. “I'm not.” He moans as their members touch, the friction eliciting a salacious sound from Will.

“Then why are you enjoying my time with Le-”

A jolt of delight brings Bobby back. His dick leaks more. He blinks, staring down. Lenny is peppering kisses around the bite mark on his fourth rib.

“He marked the location of your heart. Your boy knows more than he lets on,” Will comments; a stinging jealousy emanates from their chest. I need to get back to Hannibal. I don’t want to be stuck here. I want to do this with Hannibal. To touch him… express my feelings. Fuck. Will stares down at Bobby; a curious thought forming in his head. Bobby looks exactly like him and he's currently stripped down and flushed. In all honesty, he looks quite handsome… vulnerable. Is this what Narcissus felt? Will leans down, close enough that breathes mingled.

“What the shit, Graham?! Get off me!” Bobby tries to kick Will, but Will's legs are firmly placed on their side of Bobby's waist. His erection twitches and touches Bobby's already aching member, spurring a wave of pleasure down their spine just as Lenny reaches his pelvis. Lenny leaves a mark there and breathes on the base of Bobby's dick, giving it a kiss. Bobby's toes curl as the bliss fills his being.

“Enjoying yourself, Bobby?” Will purrs, watching the man beneath him squirm.

“Stop it. This feels like cheating.” Bobby groans, turning away from Graham.

Will laughs, forcing Bobby to face him. “Is it though? I could be a figment of your imagination. You want to be vulnerable. I want control. We can have both while enjoying your boyfriend's dick.”

“Fuck, you're a freak and my body wants release. Just get it over with. Both of you are insufferable.” Bobby rasps, widening the gap between his legs. Will takes the opportunity and bites Bobby's neck while rubbing their dicks together.

In the physical plane, Lenny starts licking up and down Bobby's cock. The action elicits a howl as Bobby feels like he's basking in too much erocticism; Lenny's tongue, Will's dick. Fuck, who knew coming out would feel this good?

“Lenny,” Bobby hoarsely pants, opening his eyes. His voice sends a wave of pleasure to Lenny's dick, making him ache. “I need you to show me how much you love me.”

“Bobby,” Lenny gasps, feeling himself leak at the demand. He rubs Bobby's length, using it as lube. He licks the pre-cum dripping from the tip then wraps his mouth around Bobby, deep throating him. Bobby mewls, gripping the edge of the couch and unable to stop himself from thrusting into Lenny's wet mouth.

Heat pools in Bobby's torso as Will's wrist flicks their dicks at a satisfying pace. Not too fast, not too slow either; savoring it. Will's eyes are closed, imagining Hannibal beneath him, holding him. Gripping his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on it, and whispers, “Faster, Will. I want us to dive into ecstasy together.”

“Fuck!” Will and Bobby curse, their cum squirting between his and Bobby's chests.

Lenny hollows his cheeks and gets off Bobby with a pop before licking a vein near the tip. Bobby explodes, hot liquid lands on Lenny's mouth while the rest fall on his chest and Bobby's. “S-Sorry, baby. Do you need a towel?” Bobby attempts to rise, but Lenny pushes him back down.

Bobby watches as Lenny licks his lips, wiping the excess spent off his face and chest. Lenny coats his fingers while Bobby stares at him. He smirks, peaking below him to see Bobby's dick rising again. Bobby gulps, licking his lips in anticipation and nervousness. Moment of truth, he's bottoming.

For fuck's sake, I'm bottoming for both men. You guys are going to get railed by me after this.

Not if I get out of here first. I'm taking my control with me.

We'll see about that Graha-

Bobby howls, feeling Graham force two fingers into his hole. “What the shit do you think you're doing?! Don't force it!” He grips the sheets, clenching around Will's fingers as he pulls out and rams his fingers back in. It causes a bit of pain for Bobby.

“You were nervous. I wanted to help you.” Will grins, curling his fingers, making Bobby groan in pain and delight. “Now you'll be ready of Lenny's-”

A mewl escapes Bobby's lips as Lenny tongues his hole and gently pushes his index finger in, waiting for Bobby to get used to him. “Lenny,” Bobby breathes, trying to get Lenny's digits deeper. Lenny fingers Bobby with a slow, titillating pace. He adds his middle then his ring finger, caressing the walls of Bobby's hole.

“Fuck! Lenny, stop teasing me!” Bobby begs just as Graham’s fingers also ram into his pleasure spot.

“Your wish is my command.” Lenny pulls his fingers out and lining himself with Bobby's hole. He searches the man's eyes, asking for confirmation. “Last chance. Are you sure about this?”

Bobby sighs, smiling fondly at Lenny. “Take everything, Lenny. I'm fucking yours.” Bobby curses as Lenny rams into him. Graham's logic wasn't wrong. His fingering in the memory palace seems to spill over into the real world since he adjusts to Lenny's size. “You can move,” Bobby whispers, kissing Lenny's cheek. The young man smiles at him, intertwining their fingers together above Bobby's head. Lenny pulls out, and steadily thrusts back in, sending a bolt of delight through both men.

“Don't forget about me, Bronson.” Will lines himself with Bronson's hole, gripping hips and ramming into Bronson, mixing pain and pleasure through the cop's body.

“Shit, Graham! Ease up!” Bobby growls, trying to pull away from Graham.

Will smirks, pulling out and thrusting back into Bronson with so much force the bed shakes. Bobby's hole clenches, pushing Will's dick in further. Both men grunt as a steady, bruising pace is set. Will times his thrusts with Lenny, loving the control he has over the filthy-mouthed man below him. Bronson leaks and screams as each pound and sound of squelching flesh brings Bronson to his peak. Will squeezes Bronson's tip, stopping him from cumming.

“No. I'm not going to let you come until I tell you to.” Will squeezes tighter, making Bronson crumple the bed sheets tighter.

“Asshole!” Bobby’s strained voice howls, pushing his hips up to meet Graham's ramming. He just wants to cum. The sensation is getting too much. The contrast of Lenny's soft thrust to Graham's bruising ones is making Bobby want to just explode.

Will feels his peak coming. He closes his eyes and an image of an unkept Hannibal with sweat cascading down his temple and Will's hand squeezing his hairy chest as he kisses Hannibal has Will's dick twitching.

Lenny tightens his hold on Bobby's hand, bumping her foreheads together as he thrusts harder and faster into Bobby. It brings Bobby back to the physical plane, prompting Bobby to wrap his legs around Lenny's waist. It makes Lenny go inside Bobby deeper, continuously hitting his pleasure spot. All three men feel their peak coming; Bobby feeling his tenfold since Graham is still squeezing him in their memory palace.

“I'm so close, Bobby,” Lenny rasps, closing his eyes.

“Me too, baby. We're almost there. Make me come with you. I want to see your eyes when we cum together.”

“Graham, please. Release me. I am begging you.” Bobby pleads, feeling Lenny about to release.

Upon hearing the request, Will imagines Hannibal begging to come on his fingers; on his dick. He releases Bobby just as Will's reaches-

“Hannibal!”

“Bobby!”

“Lenny!”

All three men cum at the same time. Lenny and Will's spent land on Bobby's dousing his chest and mouth. He physically licks Lenny's and wipes off Graham's from his face. Bobby cups Lenny's cheek and pulls him down for a heartfelt kiss. Bobby nibbles on Lenny's lower lip, making the younger man smile and sigh. Lenny pulls out of Bobby and opts to cuddle on his side, his head laying under Bobby's chin. Bobby kisses the top of his head and caresses Lenny's arm.

Will pulls out of Bobby and collapses on the far side of the bed. His dick softens as his desire and frustration leaves his body. “Sorry.”

Bobby clicks his tongue to the top of his throat. “Fuck you.”

“You technically did.”

Bobby turns to glare at Graham. “Don't bullshit me, Graham. This is still my memory palace. I can have you in chains if I want to.”

“Wow, kinky much, Bronson? Leave it for Lenny.”

Bobby groans, rubbing his face. “Feeling better then, Nar… Nar… What's the fucking name you said earlier?”

Will bursts out laughing at how ridiculous the situation is. “Narcissus. But yeah, I am. Definitely helped get the tension out. Who knew you'd be so malleable.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Ditto.”

“The only consolation to you fucking me is that I finally got to tell my boyfriend I love him and get to third base with me. You don't even know when you-"

“-you'll get to see yours again.” Bobby states out loud, making Lenny lift his head and stare up at him.

“Are you talking to your other self?” Lenny's eyes are sparkling, he's curious.

Bobby freezes then smiles, kissing the top of his head. “You're lucky, I love you.” He breathes in. “Do you want to speak to him? Just so you know, he’s a menace and I fucking hate him.”

Lenny chuckles, laying his chin on top of Bobby's chest. “You hate everyone. But yeah, why not. He helped get us together. How long has he been with you?”

Will takes over their body. “Around nine days give or take. When you saw Bobby gripping Marble's throat, that was me.”

Lenny gasps, sitting up and watching Bobby's eyes turn from vibrant greens to raging blues. “W-who are you?”

Will mirror's Lenny's actions, leaning on the armrest. “Will Graham, ex-FBI, current wanderer? I'm probably lost. I can't believe I ended up in his asshole’s body. He doesn't take care of it.”

“Fuck you. You don't either, Mr. In love with a cannibal. You loved eating fast food these past few days.” Bobby retorts, taking control of his body. One of his eyes turns back to emerald. Lenny’s eyes water as tears of joy fall down his cheeks. Bobby immediately springs to action, reaching for the roll of tissue in his box tearing and offering it to his boyfriend.

“Baby, what's wrong?”

Lenny shakes his head, sniffing. He licks his lips and takes Bobby's hand, squeezing it. “Mr. Graham, thank you for everything you've done for Bobby and I. I don't usually say much, but you need to know that your efforts are appreciated. We’re a handful, but you helped us take a step in a direction. I know it was you who filed his three day leave.”

Warmth wraps Will in a tight hug as he processes Lenny's words. It's the first time someone told him thank you for saving their life. It's usually ‘He's the other half of Murder Husbands’ not this. He usually causes pain and suffering by association. Fuck, this is new and he does love it.

“Lenny, you made him sappy. Do you think we can make tea?” Bobby asks, twining their fingers together and raising it to his lips. He kisses Lenny's hand, absentmindedly using it to caress his stubble.

“I have a better idea.” Lenny dives into Bobby's arms and hugs him tightly. “Hugs that last for 10 seconds usually give off endorphins which makes both receivers feel better. I learned that from the crochet lady that gave us our coaster set.” Lenny proudly states, laying his head on Bobby's shoulder.

Will smiles, thankful. He grabs the crochet square blanket and drapes it over them. I'm definitely going to do this when I see Hannibal again.

“I'm tired. Goodnight, Mr. Graham. It was nice meeting you.” Lenny squeezes Will tightly. He tilts his head and kisses Bobby's chin. “Goodnight, Bobby. I love you.”

Bobby takes over their body and nuzzles Lenny's head. “Goodnight from the both of us. I love you.”

Bobby closes his eyes, finally feeling less constricted than he was before realizing his issues. He retreats in his memory palace and sees Graham on the couch, arms tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling. “Thank you… for everything.”

“Don't mention it. I know I did the bulk of the work.”

Bobby scoffs. “Fuck off. You were just the help. Besides, you can't deny that I changed you too.”

Will laughs, turning away from Bronson. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.” He closes his eyes, numbness seeping in. Will has to leave again, it's the ninth day after all. He takes in a deep breath, preparing himself for the shift.

Ears ringing, heart pounding, panicked breathing, Will feels the walls constricting on him and it's only a matter of time before they come falling down, ultimately killing him.

“Fuck. Gorgeous, are you alright? Adam, I need you to answer me.”