Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hannibal’s mind goes blank for a second, not able to process what just happened for maybe a moment too long. Something unusual for him.

His heart, that seems to betray him so often since he met his beloved, skips a beat. To be honest, it feels like it stops altogether.

It feels like it freezes and the cold spreads quickly through his chest.

“Will-”

“D-don’t.” Will lifts one hand up, to put emphasis on his words or to keep Hannibal away, he doesn’t know. But it hurts all the same.

Hannibal knows better than to approach him physically again.

Will is a few steps from him, back to the wall. One hand still lifted in his direction, the other clenching his own shirt. His breathing is still erratic.

“I didn’t mean to- I was not going to hurt y-” he shouldn't stutter.

“I know!”

Will’s louder tone startles him back another step. Another unusual thing for him. Will has his heart clenched so tight in his bloody hands that Hannibal feels like he could rip it apart right now.

Maybe he is.

The silence is tense between them. Hannibal waits, very still, until Will makes the first move. His mind runs through countless options of what can happen next, rewatches their fight from just a couple of minutes ago, back to back, in his palace. He has done a lot of damage to Will, undeniably so. But he thought they were doing well, all considered.

He thought they were fine. That they would be at some point, at the very least.

Will lets out a shaky breath and runs a hand over his face.

He steps forward, away from the wall, but not closer to Hannibal.

Another piece of his heart that is squeezed to the point of bleeding.

“I-I have to go.” oh , “I need to go.”

Hannibal can register the way his breath quickens but he can’t care enough about it right now. He has to force his voice to come out.

“Will you come back?” it sounds strained.

“I need to go.”

Is all Will says before he almost lunges for the door and lets it fall closed behind him. Hannibal stays still until he can’t hear his footsteps anymore.

Hannibal lets out a shaky breath of his own, grabbing the counter for balance. It still amazes him how easily his lamb can punch the air out of him.

After the fall their relationship took a turn.

Or maybe, he should say it took a lot of turns.

It took them time to heal, a bit too long, with how little they could work with. To join their bleeding wounds, both stabs and gunshots, they had to add several bruises, a dislocated shoulder and a strained ankle.

Their dive in the ocean was not their best moment for sure, but they came out alive, and while it hurt like all hell, even by Hannibal’s standards, they got through it. Slowly but surely.

They seemed to communicate without words. They learned to live together, even in a small boat, and didn’t try to kill each other again.

That is a great improvement if you ask him.

Will treated his wounds and he treated Will’s.

They took turns cooking while healing and then Hannibal took over the task almost permanently, of course.

He had loved to see Will sailing, he looked stunning under the hot sun, the ocean reflecting in his eyes. The first time Will smiled at him he felt like he had ascended to the heavens and above.

His boy was incredibly beautiful.

After long, long weeks, their wounds healed, they looked much better and they could mostly move without wincing in pain every five seconds.

They went back to Baltimore once, after a lot of planning.

It was after Bedelia that they kissed for the first time.

His beloved, his Will , hands still covered in blood, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him to crash their lips together.

He felt high for an embarrassing amount of time.

They ate her together. They went back to their lives on the boat for a little longer. And then they settled in Cuba.

The relationship developed slowly, none of them was in a rush. They stayed low for the first couple of months and learned to navigate their new dynamic. Kisses and soft touches had never been quite their style, but it goes without saying that both had yearned for it for too long.

It was so easy to take each other apart.

No knives, no blood. Just their bare hands, skin on skin, strainted groans and loud moans.

They fought once. One wrong sentence was all it took. It has always been like this with them.

The discussion got heated, Will let the memories of all his months of suffering from encephalitis get hold of him. The fever, the lost time, the hallucinations, the fear. Hannibal made him suffer so much, for so long, just to see what happened . He let anger fill him, the sickness, the lying, Georgia Madchen, Beverly, Abigail, the gutting, leaving with Bedelia, trying to cut his head open to eat his brain, leaving and then turning himself in, sending the Dragon to Wally and Molly.

He yelled, cried, trashed around, he let it all out and Hannibal- well, Hannibal took it.

And when he couldn’t anymore his mouth ran as well.

They crashed against each other. Going for the kill. Going for the throat. Always, it would always end up in blood with them. There was no other way.

They punched and kicked and, thankfully, there were no knives around.

They ended up on the floor, after what felt like hours, laying next to each other, breathing heavily. Noses and lips bleeding, knuckles bruised, Hannibal’s shirt ripped open at the shoulder.

After minutes of laying there in silence Hannibal slowly turns on his side to face Will. The empath met his eyes almost immediately, and Hannibal brought a hand to his cheek, whipping the remaining tears with his thumb.

They rested their foreheads together.

And that was the last time they fought.

Until now.

Since then their relationship grew stronger. From a stanger’s point of view they looked like a normal couple, nothing amiss. Just two people who loved each other and had a few weird inside jokes.

Hannibal looks at him nowadays and wonders how he could ever have hurt him on purpose. How could he ever have wanted him suffering when his smile looks so beautiful. How could he ever have wanted him crying and bleeding when he is so achingly stunning when happy.

He thinks the problem is that he is also all those things while in pain.

But he doesn’t want to hurt him anymore, they’re equals. Will sees him and accepts him, accepts himself. They go hunting together.

Actually, Hannibal was just preparing their last pig when everything went down.

Will had never - not in their new life and not before, if he recalls correctly - never, ever , flinched away from him. In fear.

The first fight was months ago, another one was the last thing on Hannibal’s mind. He wanted them to continue down the path they’ve been carving together, he wanted them to be happy and solve the tension that was left on certain topics but apparently he pushed too far.

Apparently Will was more hurt than he let out.

Still so, so pained from the things that happened between them.

Hannibal had no intention of making a threatening movement. He just turned and stepped forward, towards Will, towards his love, to try to sooth him maybe, he didn’t know anymore.

He lifted his hand, he knows that much, and perhaps his movements were too fast, perhaps he looked too angry, because the next thing he knows, there’s a strangled sound ringing in his ears and Will is flinching back until he hits the wall behind him, hands up to protect himself and his middle.

Hannibal noticed, he saw - for a split second - the pure fear in Will’s eyes, when the person he was seeing was not his Hannibal but the one from years ago in that kitchen in Baltimore.

Would he have flinched back then if he saw the knife earlier?

Would he have fought back?

Hannibal wishes he would fight back now instead of giving him that frightened look. He never wants to see that look directed to him, or to anyone, for that matter. No one is allowed to cause Will such a sentiment.

And yet, he did.

Again.

He cleaned the rest of the kitchen on autopilot, washed himself up in the bathroom and then sat in their living room.

Waiting.

Will didn’t come back until he went to bed.

Will walked around for hours, the forest around their house was vast and by the end of the day he’s sure he got it almost all covered. He could walk it with his eyes closed.

He replayed the fight in his head countless times, something that didn’t even start as a fight.

The thing is, he is not scared of Hannibal. He’s simply not. He loves him and has always, well, at least lately, welcomed and wanted his touch.

He didn’t think Hannibal would hurt him, but in that moment, everything seemed to stop and all he could see were the knives within reach and Hannibal moving towards him.

His mind went blank. Before he knew it he was against the wall, trying to protect himself from an attack that wasn’t coming, the sound that left his lips sounded strange even to his own ears.

He rubbed the sides of his head, a headache growing since he left the house. He needed space, he needed time to think, but now looking back at it maybe he didn’t explain himself very well. Or at all.

He should go back, he should explain to Hannibal what happened even if he himself is not so sure. They need to speak again, they need to be okay again. He needs to pull Hannibal close and tell him he’s not afraid, even if sometimes he still gets angry and wants to fight.

He doesn’t want to fight like this.

He swallows the lump in his throat and slowly makes his way back to the house.

By the time he gets home it’s already dark. And late. All the lights are out and he figures Hannibal has gone to bed. He pounders on what would be the best thing to do and decides to go up to their bedroom.

If Hannibal’s asleep - which he doubts - they can just speak in the morning.

Yeah, sounds like a plan.

He climbs silently up the stairs, stopping by the bathroom first to wash the sweat of the day off and freshen himself up.

When he’s done and leaves for their room he almost knocks on the door. It’s a stupid thing, really, they have been sharing the place for months now but it felt strange. Like he owed Hannibal a warning.

He ignored the part of him that told him to do it and just opened it.

The room was dark, Hannibal was laying on his side of the bed, back turned to Will’s side, he didn’t give any signs of hearing Will coming in even though the younger man could easily tell he was not asleep yet.

He moved quickly through the usual motions. Slipped out of his day clothes and put on his sleepshirt and loose boxers. He lifted the sheets and pulled them up to his chest.

He never liked to sleep completely covered, his body has always runned too hot for it to be nice but since he started sleeping next to Hannibal it became comfortable. Just one more comfort the man’s presence brought him.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, syncing his breath with Hannibal’s until finally getting tired of the tension. It was ridiculous, he didn’t mean to hurt Hannibal and Hannibal didn’t mean to hurt him, and it was just a misunderstanding, why can’t they just talk it out like adults-

“I’m sorry.” he blurts out, whispering into the quiet of the room, “I didn’t mean to do that.” he says, softer.

He waits a moment for the words to settle and when Hannibal doesn't answer he tries again.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m not angry anymore, I just- uh, I don’t know, none of us should have said anything, I know you didn’t mean to do anything to me. I’m sorry.” he turns to face the doctor’s back, “Am I forgiven?”

A beat passes before he sees Hannibal’s head move, nodding against the pillow. Still, the man does not turn.

Will sighs, runs a hand over his face and finally gives in.

He stoops forward, slowly pressing his front to Hannibal’s back, curling one arm around his waist.

He lets his scarred cheek rest against Hannibal’s back, just inches above the Verger brand. He closes his eyes, syncing their breaths once more and after what feels like an eternity, finally falls asleep.

He doesn’t notice the way the body in his arms shudders with a heavy sigh only minutes after.

Hannibal’s brain allowed him about three hours of sleep, maximum. He feels tired and sore, his body is still not what it used to be and at this point he’s not sure it will return to be the same. Will is still firmly pressed to him, no matter how much he turned during the night, which he tried to avoid but failed miserably, the younger man did not let go of him.

It should feel nice. It should feel reassuring. But it felt like Will didn’t know what else to do to mend the situation so he was forcing himself to do what he thinks Hannibal wants.

He just wanted them to be okay.

Hannibal has to distance himself. He hates every moment of it but he can’t risk having Will afraid of him, not at this point in their relationship. If Will is scared then he won’t see them as equals, if Will is scared then what will be of them?

You can’t be in a relationship with someone you’re afraid of. That’s not healthy, that’s not good, and while barely nothing in their dynamic has ever been considered healthy, this was a different matter.

A matter that Hannibal was not going to take lightly.

So he distances himself from Will, as much as he hurts him to see the sadness in his beloved’s face when he avoids a caress or a gentle touch, it needs to be done. He needs to give Will his space so the man can grow confident again. No pressure.

That’s what needs to happen, they need to navigate the situation not fight it.

He will do anything to not have Will afraid of him on any occasion.

Will is beyond frustrated in all senses of the word. And all different kinds of frustration he’s feeling are caused by Hannibal and Hannibal alone, the one and only.

God, could the man be a pain in the ass.

Will stills feels bad about their fight, having cried once or twice since, when he figured what was going on with Hannibal. How could two grown men possibly be so terrible dealing with emotions? For fuck’s sake, Hannibal was a psychiatrist.

What a terrible patient, Will almost feels bad for Bedelia.

Almost.

Hannibal avoids anything that can bring more than just a soft touch here and there.

He hugs him tighter or longer: Hannibal pulls back. He deepens a kiss: Hannibal pulls back. He wants to cuddle: Hannibal pulls back. He tries to kiss his neck: Hannibal almost runs out of the room.

He just wants them to go back to how they were.

They talk less, hunt less, spend less time together, have less sex. Will feels like he’s going crazy, like he’s about to crawl up the walls.

He handles almost a month of this before finally snapping.

Weeks of walking on eggshells around Hannibal and Hannibal around him, scared of saying or doing the wrong thing to the other, weeks of avoidance, weeks of barely touching each other. He had enough.

He groans in frustration and sits back up against the headboard one night, right after Hannibal turns his back to him again , and shrugging off his arm.

“Hannibal, look at me.”

He doesn’t move.

“You better turn the fuck around or I’m done. I’m done for good. I’m leaving.”

Liar.

He can see Hannibal’s shoulders tense and after a couple of seconds the older man finally turns around, sitting up as well. Will sighs.

“You know we need to talk.”

“I don’t see why?”

“Don’t you, really? Have you gone stupid all of a sudden?”

“Will-”

“Stop with the excuses, okay? I know you, you know me, let’s solve this. What the fuck is wrong with us?” he tilts his head when Hannibal avoids his gaze, “Look at me.”

“You wanted space.”

Hannibal’s voice is hoarse, strained. It pains Will to hear him like this.

“I wanted space for a few hours, not a lifetime.” he sighs once more, “I told you I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it was an instinctive reaction, you couldn’t control it.”

“Hannibal, I’m not scared of you.”

“Consciously not, no. But clearly some part of your mind still is.” he almost whispers the words, like they hurt to say out loud.

“Well my unconscious mind has always been a mess, I had nightmares all the time too, you know. What matters is when I’m awake. And when I’m awake I want you.”

“If I accidentally do something that triggers you again, and you have the same reaction, I don’t know what to do with myself.” Will shakes his head, confused at the admission, “What am I to do if you are afraid of me, my love? What can I possibly do if that is something we can’t work around?”

“We will work on it, not around it. Hell, I’ll start therapy again if you want but stop avoiding me.”

“Will-”

“No, no, no. Listen to me.” he brings one hand to Hannibal’s cheek, making him look him in the eyes, “I’m here because I want to. You didn’t force me. I threw us off that cliff, I wanted to go to Bedelia with you, I wanted to start hunting with you, I wanted a relationship with you, I kissed you first.” he takes a deep breath, “What do I have to do for you to understand?”

“You have unresolved trauma about matters I am to blame for. That was the cause. That is why you…”

Will has never seen the man at loss for words and as much as he wanted him to just shut up sometimes, this is not one of those moments.

“Yes, I flinched, okay, I fucking flinched.” Hannibal winces, “I saw you come for me so fast, and I saw the knife and my brain shut off, alright? I had a uh, a flashback, that’s all. I got some fresh air and came back. Everything’s alright.”

“Everything is not alright, Will. I can’t- I can’t deal with it if it happens again.”

Will’s eyes widen a fraction, “Hey…” he says, softer, “Come on…” he strokes the side of his face, Hannibal leans into it.

“It pains me too much to know a part of you is still afraid of my actions, I can’t take back what I did, and no amount of apologies will simply wash it away.”

“What happened brought us here.”

“If I had listened to you instead of reacting that way we could still end up here. And there would be three of us.”

Will tenses a bit at that but tries to shrug it off.

“But there’s still two of us, and lately it feels like I’m just one and I’m tired. I’m tired of it Hannibal, we spent three years apart and now I feel like I don’t see you even living in the same house. I’m tired, I miss you.”

Hannibal holds his gaze for the first time in minutes, Will can see his eyes shine a little too brightly in the dark.

“Hannibal…” he shuffles closer, “The man I know doesn’t stutter. The man I know is not afraid of doing anything. The man I love is confident.”

“The man you love made you step back in fear.”

“Hannibal-” he sighs, frustrated, he grabs Hannibal’s hand and brings it to his chest, “I love you, okay? I love you and I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, so you better touch me again or I’m gonna punch you in the face.”

“Will-”

“I’m serious.” he feels the doctor’s fingers clench his shirt, “It happened, I can’t undo it, it just happened, yes I was scared for a second but it went away. I’m not scared of you. I am not afraid, I want you, I miss you, for fuck sake just kiss me like you mean it.”

Hannibal looks to the side, hand still on Will's shirt, and the sad look on the man’s eyes softens Will’s tone once again.

“Please…” he whispers, tilting his head closer, “Please?”

When Hannibal looks back at him he closes the distance between them gently. He starts it off soft, just a quick peck on his lips before pulling back to gauge his reaction. When Hannibal gave nothing but a quiet sigh he kissed him again, for a little longer.

He keeps testing the waters for a few minutes, until Hannibal starts kissing back, actually kissing back. He moves the doctor’s hand from his chest to the back of his head and hooks one leg over his hips. Hannibal holds his curls tight.

“I missed you…” he repeats, “I missed you so much…”

“My beloved…” Hannibal finally gives in, descending his lips slowly to the side of his throat.

Will tilts his head back to give him better access, after so long without the man’s touch everything feels like pure bliss. When Hannibal reaches his collarbone he pulls back and takes his own shirt off.

As he grows confident that Hannibal won’t just run off at any moment he starts to climb into his lap. One knee on each side of Hannibal’s hips. His hands find their place on Will’s waist immediately.

Will presses his naked front to Hannibal’s still clothed form, feeling the firm muscle of his chest and the soft of his belly. The arms around him tighten.

“Come on, let me…” Hannibal shivers when his lips touch his ear, he lets Will pull his arms up and the shirt over his head.

It’s been so long since they had any intimate contact that Will feels like he could get off on this alone.

Hannibal continues his exploration of Will’s skin, hands running up and down his sides and back, oh, how he missed his dear Will.

Will instinctively shifts his hips when Hannibal takes a nipple in his mouth making both of them groan, it’s been too long.

“Oh, god, I missed you.” he says again as he rolls his hips a little harder, quickly starting to fill in his boxers, “Don’t run from me again…”

Hannibal doesn’t answer with words but firms his hands on Will’s waist, making him grind harder against him. Will moans.

He can feel Hannibal grow hard against him, hot against the side of his thigh, even through his sleep pants. He cups Hannibal’s face with both hands, bringing it up for a kiss.

His tongue tastes Hannibal’s, his favorite taste in the world, the taste he loved and missed so much.

“I am not afraid, I know you won’t hurt me.” he repeats, “I love you, touch me.”

How can Hannibal deny him now?

How could Hannibal deny him, ever? 

He nibbles on Will’s bottom lip, feeling the man squirm in his arms, shifting closer, he runs both hands down his sides, grabbing his ass at the end.

He kneads the muscle in his hands, digging his finger deep into Will’s skin, the empath moans.

“Come on, take it off…”

He’s referring to Hannibal’s pants, he imagines. Hannibal shifts, lifting him up and laying him back on the bed by his side. Will finds his waistband easily, helping him pull the elastic down and all the way down his legs, he kicks them off.

Will has his arms and legs spread for him, taking him in his embrace with hunger, fingers pulling the hair on his nape making him shiver.

Hannibal ruts against him, now only two layers of thin fabric separating them. Still not enough.

Will groans and squirms until he gets hold of his own waistband, they bump their foreheads against each other in their rush, Will giggles, Hannibal breathes out a laugh and kisses his bare shoulder.

They finally get their underwear out of the way.

The first contact of their erections against each other makes them both moan. Will flips them over once again, straddling Hannibal’s hips and immediately attacking his throat with bites and kisses. He needs Hannibal to feel how he feels. He needs him to understand that it wouldn’t be now, after everything, that he would start to be afraid.

There is no fear in his actions, and there is nothing, especially not in this very moment, that Hannibal could do that would pull that reaction out of him.

He trails his lips along Hannibal’s skin, nibbling on a collarbone and descending to his chest. He runs his hands over Hannibal’s pectorals, feeling the warm skin, the coarse hair, then lowering them to his stomach. The man is firm and strong but has a layer of softer meat on top caused by all the good eating they do. He is perfect. Will latches his lips to one of his nipples, licks and sucks until it’s red and Hannibal squirms under him, arching his back a little. He gives the same treatment to the other one while playing with the former, now wet with saliva.

When he decides that Hannibal is enough of a mess from that alone, he trails his kisses lower. He grabs his hips firmly while nibbling down the doctor’s happy trail, the soft of his belly.

He avoids his cock, red and leaking at the tip, so close to his mouth. Hannibal shifts his hips higher, unconsciously searching for friction.

Will doesn’t give it to him yet.

He continues down to his thighs, spreading them wider, kissing the insides and kneading at the flesh.

“Will-”

“Shh… let me…”

He sucks at the skin of one of his thighs until Hannibal hisses, then continues his work until both are red and a little purple on some spots. There was a time when Will would never think of hickies and Hannibal Lecter in the same sentence.

“Having fun?”

Will didn’t even notice he huffed a laugh until Hannibal spoke. He looks up at him through his lashes, “Yes.” and then takes him in his mouth.

Hannibal throws his head back when the wet heat of Will’s mouth engulfs him. Fingers clenching the brown curls. Will licks the underside from base to tip, waiting for saliva to form in his mouth before letting it drip on the head. Hannibal shivers under his hold, thrusting his hips up absentmindedly. He runs his tongue over the head, tonguing at the slit.

Teasing Hannibal is something that he will never tire of.

He sucks gently at the tip, feeling as Hannibal’s muscles twitch with every movement. Then he spits on his own hand and starts to stroke him, still only letting his tongue touch the sensitive head.

Hannibal moans, louder this time, Will is letting his saliva run down his shaft in pleasant, but unnecessary, amounts. His lamb likes to torture him, and after so long with no contact he can only imagine how much Will wants to break him.

He will gladly break for him.

It is wet, extremely wet. His hand moves with no problem at all, Hannibal is more than slick and hot in his hold and he loves every part of it. He takes a deep breath through his nose before starting to move his head. He hollows his cheeks, taking more of him every time he goes down.

Hannibal’s voice goes higher, the sounds grow in frequency, sweat is starting to show at his hairline. He likes to keep Hannibal on the edge of pleasure, to keep him wanting and craving until he only needs one more push that Will refuses to give.

He takes him all the way down the next time. Swallows and moans around him, feels him throb and groan louder as his throat tightens against the intrusion. He has him almost where he wants him.

He palms himself with his free hand to take off some of the pressure from his groin. It causes him to moan around Hannibal again, which makes the man arch his back for more.

Will brings his other slick hand to his balls, fondling them gently as he comes up for air and tongues at the slit. Precome gathers and falls on his tongue, as it has been doing since they started. He loves the taste of Hannibal.

The man grows restless under him. He keeps one hand on his balls and dives in again, taking him all the way until his nose hits the trimmed hair, he swallows, hard , and gently closes his teeth around him, barely touching the skin.

It’s enough to have Hannibal clench the fist in his hair tighter, to make his muscles tense and his toes curl and Will knows.

He is right there.

Will pulls off.

Hannibal groans, falling back against the mattress with a huff, panting harshly. It’s not the first, and won’t be the last time Will snatches an orgasm right from his hands.

Will comes up, kissing his face and mouth with soft lips and soothing words while grabbing his still throbbing cock and giving it a firm tug at the base.

“You wicked creature…” he murmurs into Will’s lips. The empath gives him a lopsided smile.

They kiss for longer, Will wipes his wet hand on the sheets and rolls over, letting Hannibal come on top. The doctor nibbles on his neck, playing with one nipple before reaching for the nightstand and grabbing a bottle of lube.

Before he has a chance to pour it on his fingers Will grabs his wrist.

“I don’t want to feel any trace of hesitance from you, you hear me?” he is serious but his tone is soft, “I won’t break, you can’t hurt me. I am not afraid of you.”

Hannibal nods once, kissing the tip of his nose but doesn’t give any verbal answer. When Will is ready to snap at him to give him a response one finger silences him.

He arches off the bed, a loud whine escaping his lips as Hannibal finally, finally , enters him with one slick finger. He has been waiting for so long.

“Oh, fuck…”

Hannibal smirks, face against Will’s shoulder while he works his fist and his finger inside Will, curling it around, avoiding that bundle of nerves that makes him scream. Soon enough he adds another one, and Will thrusts down on his fingers like his life depends on it. Hannibal holds his hips still with the other hand.

He takes his time opening him up, scissoring his fingers and curving them, caressing the walls around them, finding the places he already knew but stayed away for so long. He will never do that again unless Will asks him to.

Looking at the man underneath him now, it doesn’t seem likely.

Will groans when Hannibal adds a third finger, lifting one of his knees up, diving deeper into him. He finally has mercy and curves his fingers just right, to rub at the spot Will has been craving. The action was so sudden that Will gasps, throws his head back as the electric feeling spreads through his veins.

“God, Hannibal…” he pants as the doctor leans in to kiss him, fingers still working inside him.

Hannibal never seems to have enough of preparing him, something he has always been more than grateful for. For two reasons.

“I-It’s enough, it’s enough, Hannibal, I’m good.” he pants.

“Are you?” he shoves them in deeper, thumb pressing at his entrance, where Will clenches around his fingers, “Maybe a little more?”

“No, n-no, Hannibal, come here, I’m ready.”

He grabs Hannibal’s face with shaky hands, bringing his mouth to his. They kiss, Will pours all the reassurance he can manage into that one kiss.

“Take me.”

And Hannibal obeys.

Will turns around, he lays on his stomach, hissing when his sensitive cock touches the sheets. Hannibal brings one hand to his front, taking a bit of the weight off of his body, he puts one knee firmly on the mattress, leg pressed against Will's left one. He lifts Will’s other leg up, bringing it up until it bends by his waist. Will has the sheets clenched thigh in his fists.

Hannibal positions himself above him, free hand caressing the skin from Will's thigh to the curve of his ass, spreading him open. He plants one kiss on Will’s nape before pressing in.

Will holds his breath as Hannibal continues to enter him. He can feel every bit of hot flesh, the slickness of the lube, Hannibal’s fingers digging into his hip bone. The man is everything he can feel, that he can smell, that he can taste.

Hannibal only stops when Will’s cheeks are flushed against his pelvis. Will feels the tip of his erection pressed impossibly deep inside him.

Hannibal doesn’t move, for the first couple of seconds he just lays still, catching his breath, gathering his bearings.

“Breathe, Will.” he sighs, “Feel it, us .”

“Hng…”

“Breathe deep, take a deep breath with me, my love.” Will wants to cry, “Take one deep breath with me and stop tensing your muscles. Just let the feeling wash over you.”

He pants a little, easier said than done, he can’t focus on anything when Hannibal has him flushed against him, cock inside him to the hilt.

Eventually, he tries to do as Hannibal says. He follows the doctor’s breathing patterns, feels the skin and hair of Hannibal’s chest against his back. He takes one breath in and out. In. Out. In. Out.

He gradually relaxes his muscles, arms first. He feels Hannibal’s own arms and hands supporting him. Then his torso, he can feel the muscles on his chest and abdomen unravel and it already shifts something in him.

Then his legs. He breathes in once more as tries to relax his thighs and the muscles of his ass. In.

His breath catches.

Hannibal holds him.

Out.

“Oh, shit.”

“There you go…” Hannibal whispers in his ear.

It’s only now that he realizes how much the clenches tight during sex, everyone does. Muscles coiled, under pressure. Moving or still, you just don’t relax.

And my god, how it feels when you do.

It’s impossible to keep for long though, he can feel every part of Hannibal that is pressed against him, he can feel the heat grow in his core, he can feel every throb of Hannibal inside him. He desperately wants to tense and squirm.

“Try to keep that way.” Hannibal says as he moves slowly for the first time.

“I-I can’t-”

“Your body’s instinct is to tense up, to keep whatever is going on, well, going.” he groans at another thrust in, “It feels so much better if you let go. It feels so much… more.”

Will moans. Yes, he knows. He can feel it. He can feel everything. But as much as he tries, everytime he succeeds an overwhelming need to move takes him and he whines against the pillow.

Hannibal picks up the pace a bit, hands firm on Will’s leg and hip.

“I-I was supposed to be making you feel better-”

“You think I can be better than this?”

Hannibal’s words and teasing but genuine, Will knows. He just wants him to know.

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good, I- I promise… I’ve never been afraid. I’m not scared of you, I love you-”

“I know, Will. Hng- I apologize for avoiding you. I… I only wanted to give you time and space.”

Will gasps as the head finds his prostate, diving deep into it.

“Y-you… god, it’s alright- It’s alright, I should’ve done something sooner.”

He can tell words are leaving his brain as much as Hannibal’s. Coherent thoughts flying out of the room as Hannibal snaps his hips harder, deeper, shoving him a little up the bed.

Will has one hand tight on the sheets while the other searches for Hannibal behind him, for anything he can grab. He settles on his hip, holding it on a bruising grip.

Hannibal mouths at the curve of his neck, biting and kissing the skin there until it’s red and sensitive. Will brings his bent knee a little higher with the help of Hannibal’s hand, the man grabs it tighter.

“Breathe, Will.”

In.

Out.

“Oh, fuck-”

Hannibal presses him into the mattress, his shaft leaking profusely on the bed and against his stomach, he ruts into the sheets, trying to alleviate himself.

“Breathe for me.” Hannibal repeats when he stops and when he can’t bring himself to do it, Hannibal pulls out until only the head is inside and stops.

“Hannibal-”

“Do it, please, for me. Show me I can still make you feel good.”

“Hannibal, y-you-”

“Do it for me, my dear. Let me see how good you feel. Make me believe I can’t bring you nothing but pleasure.”

Hannibal’s words sound too tight, too strained for the moment, too genuine. Almost begging.

But Will’s mind is too foggy with desire and the only thing he can focus on is Hannibal’s cock keeping him open only at the entrance and he’s going crazy.

“Hannibal, move, please-”

“Breathe for me.”

“Hannibal, come on, I can’t- just move, I’m breathing. God, I love you, I’m breathing.” he whines, “Please- please.”

“Please, Will.”

Now his voice sounds too wet and a bit of clarity comes to Will’s brain. He breathes in deeply.

“Do you want me to move?” he whispers in his ear, “Do you need me to move?”

“ Yes .”

“Do you want me deeper? Can you feel me like this? Just barely inside you-”

“Yes…” he thrusts back against Hannibal, “Move. You make me feel so good Hannibal, you can’t hurt me- you can never hurt me again.”

Hannibal smiles into the curve of his neck and obeys. He kisses gently over Will’s upper back as he regains momentum. Will moans, head thrown back in bliss, eyes closed. Hannibal keeps his lips on his skin the whole time, he lets more of his weight fall on Will, trapping him firmly against the mattress.

This makes Will’s throbbing cock rub on the sheets with every movement. Will moans, louder. Fisting tighter at the handful between his fingers.

Hannibal finds his prostate again while holding him in place, and Will loses it.

“Oh, god- oh, fuck. Hannibal- Hannibal- shit…”

Hannibal doesn’t let up. He doesn’t speed up nor slow down. He keeps his pace just as it was. He keeps hitting the head against his special spot. He feels Will’s muscles tense, his breath catch, his fingers and toes curling harshly all of a sudden.

“Breathe.” he repeats, right by Will’s ear, nibbling behind it.

In…

Will breathes out the moment his orgasm washes over him. Muscles looser than usual and it hits him like never before. He gasps as the knot on his lower belly snaps, strong waves of blinding pleasure course through him. Hannibal keeps his motions just the same and the sensation just keeps coming and coming.

“Hannibal!” he moans, “God- Hannibal…”

Suddenly he feels a wetness inside him to add to the one he feels on his front already. Hannibal shudders behind him, thrusting a few more times, while he rides off his own high.

They pant heavily in that position until their heart rates lower. Will brings the hand on his leg to his lips and kisses it.

“See…? You can’t hurt me…”

“You will be sore.” Hannibal whispers as he presses a kiss to the side of neck.

“You can never hurt me…” he repeats, voice tired and soft, “My god, you feel so good.”

“I’m glad.”

He pulls slowly, making it less unpleasant than it usually is. He sees his own spending coming out of Will.

“Let it for now.” Will reads his mind, “We’ll shower later.”

“You will be uncomfortable.”

“Come hug me.” he shifts to take Hannibal in his arms after pushing the dirty sheets off to the side, pulling the clean part over them, “You good?”

“I’m better than I’ve been in ages.” the doctor whispers, face hiding on his neck, “I am so grateful to have you, mylimasis.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel like that.” he runs his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, “I’m sorry for everything, this situation was so stupid.”

“Don’t call such a reaction ‘stupid’. It had its reasons and origins, I’d still like to look into it.”

“We’ll fix anything that needs fixing.” he brings Hannibal’s face up to look him in the eyes, “Do you believe me?”

“Are there really no doubts in your mind?”

“There haven’t been any doubts since we killed the Dragon. No doubts at all. I know what I am and I know what you are.”

“I can’t be without you again. Separation is not… kind, on the soul.”

“It’s not kind on anything.” he laughs softly, “We won’t have to be separated again. I promise.” he presses a kiss to his lips, “You don’t have to be concerned about me leaving, I’m never going to leave you.”

“I know…”

Will snuggles closer, hugging Hannibal, head on his chest.

“Do you really need me to show you I enjoy your touch or was that just something from the moment?” Hannibal’s silence is answer enough, “Hannibal, be serious.”

“I am.”

“Do you still want me to?”

He sighs, “I have always been a confident man, needing something as simple as reassurance feels… foreign.”

“Everyone needs it every once in a while. It’s just another reminder of how human you are.”

“Does it change something for you?”

“Seeing you as a normal human being?” Will snorts, “No, not really. I fell in love with the man first, then denied the monster. Then I realized I couldn’t keep myself from falling for the monster as well, that I am one too, and then the human came back and made me fall harder.”

“You are not a monster, Will.”

“I surely do look like one more than you do.”

At that Hannibal pulls back, “Will, are you being serious now? Do you see yourself like that?”

“Yeah, I-I mean, I am not self conscious- well, maybe a little, sometimes. But I’m not saying it because I’m insecure about it, it just is. It’s right here, there’s nothing to do about it, you did a great job stitching it.” he smiles, “It’s just… not that nice to look at.”

“You are the nicest thing I have ever laid eyes on.” he cups his cheek, “Before and after.”

“How nice of you.” he says, teasing, but snuggles into his chest again anyway, “Let’s get some sleep now.”

“We should shower, you will be really uncomfortable.”

“Just a nap…”

Hannibal hums, caressing the curls on the back of his head. He lets Will fall asleep in his arms, holding him close. His most precious thing.

His lamb. The other half of the teacup. He holds him as if he’s going to break.

He should know better at this point, that his Will is unbreakable.

The next time they hunt, Will takes the lead. He is the one to make themselves known. He is the one to go for it first. He is the one who takes out the knife and the one who kills him.

He turns to Hannibal, hands covered in red, some drops on his face. He looked achingly beautiful.

The moonlight shines on them, the blood looks black.

Will comes up to him, grabs the lapels of his jacket and pulls him down for a kiss. Just like their first.

“Feeling nostalgic?”

“Just thought it would be nice to remind you of our last fight.”

Hannibal tenses, he arches one eyebrow in question, “Have I done something-”

“I am the one with the knife.” he brings it up between them, sharp side turned to Hannibal, “I have some control in this relationship this time, half of it, at least. I am not afraid of you because I can be as dangerous as you. We are equals, Hannibal. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Hannibal grabs his wrist, brings the knife closer to his abdomen.

“I would gladly accept your wrath.”

Will smiles, he shoves the knife back on his pocket and pulls Hannibal for a kiss once more. Spreading blood on his cheekbones.

“You look good in black.”

“And you in red, my love.”

“Let’s take him home.”

Hannibal lets Will take his hand and guide him to the corpse, laying on his back, eyes wide and unseeing. Hannibal can’t really recall anymore what the man has done. That’s how much of an effect Will has on him.

He leans in when Will bends down to grab the dead man. He takes one deep inhale, letting the scent of his beloved swirl his senses.

He smells of wood, fire, leaves and grass, dogs, he can feel the scent of their sheets, Will’s flannels, and that horrible aftershave that Will still buys now, only to irritate him. He smells blood.

He doesn’t smell fear.

In.

Out.

They’re home.