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Chapter Text

Will takes a step back.

The golden glowing tick of a metronome sways behind his eyes. He travels back in time, putting himself in the shoes of the person who killed the victim in front of him. He takes a deep breath in, tilting his head back. The scene is set.

Will opens his eyes. He sees the victim, Eric Chance, with his wrists tied to each corner of the ceiling and ankles spread apart, tied to the corners of the base boards. His jaw has been unhinged from the bone, gaping open. His eyes have been removed, and not kindly; his eyelids are missing. Down each arm, each leg, down his back, are three deep gashes, like claw marks. There’s a massive wound where his heart would be, which had been ripped out, half eaten and left on the floor on the barn.

He already knows. What he doesn’t know, is how he’s going to explain this to his team.

Will sees it. A man, more than a man, becoming a beast. Transfiguring into the very thing found in fairytales. His eyes, tinted with a yellow glow. The killer is on all fours, thick hair covering every inch of his body. He bares his canine teeth. He already had Eric Chance tied to the ceiling.

“I tie Eric to the wall, naked,” Will watches himself do this. “I do not want him aware, not yet,” As the beast, Will throws his head back and howls. He pulls out his claws, tearing the skin off the victims arms. “The victim wakes up as I claw into his skin,” He sees Eric scream and cry. “He’s panicked, not knowing where he is or how he got there. The killer wants him disoriented and… humiliated,” Will claws down Eric’s legs viciously, causing Eric to ask why.

“You know why,” Will tells him.

“What are you?!” Eric gasps.

“I am the consumer of human hearts. I am the dog of the dirt, beaten and kicked. I am the lone wolf, devouring anyone who gets close.”

Will mounts Eric, ripping down his back, peeling back his flesh. Eric is barely hanging on, he’s barely clinging to life. Will watches as his claws dig in Eric’s chest, slowly, painfully twisting. He watches Eric’s pupils get wide then he lunges, ripping into his chest and pulling his heart out. Eric’s eyes go flat. And Will sinks his teeth into the slippery, rubbery organ.

“This is my design.”

Will opens his eyes. Jack, Alana, and Hannibal surround him, watching him come back into reality.

“So,” Jack begins, standing on Will’s left. “What do you see?”

“He’s alone. More than anything, he wants a family,” Will states. “He sees himself as a leader. An Alpha with no pack. He feeds on their hearts because he believes it’s the only way anyone will give him theirs.”

Hannibal comes to Will’s right. “He’s an animal. A human in wolf clothes. He doesn’t believe he will be accepted in society. He’s not who he wants to be. He’s pretending.”

Will turns to look at Hannibal, glaring at him. “Yes,” He agrees. “Pretending.”

-

“You are getting too comfortable with your honesty,” Will shares, handing Hannibal an empty wine glass. He picks up his own off of the kitchen counter, grabbing the red wine bottle, pouring it into Hannibal’s glass. “They will catch on. You’re not being careful.”

Hannibal smirks. He swirls the wine in the glass, smelling it deeply before taking a sip. “Catch on to what exactly? There’s many things you could be suggesting.” He wraps his free arm around Will, putting his glass on the counter, and embracing Will fully, pulling him in close.

Will places a hand on his chest, then fixes Hannibal’s collar. He sips at his wine before putting the glass down. “You’re not exactly subtle,” Will licks his teeth. “A human in wolf clothes? You’re practically telling them these creatures exist.”

“These creatures,” Hannibal repeats. “You say that like you forget what you share a bed with.”

Will purses his lips. “Stop it. Stop right there,” He says sternly, watching as Hannibal’s eyes fall to the ground. “Not what - who. From the moment you told me who you were, I have fully and openly accepted it. All I’m saying is… cautiousness never hurt anyone.”

“You also forget,” Hannibal kisses Will’s cheek. “I can easily make them forget the truth. No one could ever know.”

Will sighs. He’s not going to win this. But he can’t help his neurotic self from overthinking the possibilities. “If werewolves and vampires are real, don’t you think it’s possible that there are things out there that hinder your powers?”

Hannibal smirks. “I adore you,” He swoons, cupping Will’s cheek. “I’ve been at this for 157 years. I will be okay. No need to fret.”

Will sighs, once more, and leans into Hannibal’s touch, closing his eyes. Hannibal is cool the touch, thumb rubbing over Will’s cheekbone. Will kisses the palm of his hand. Hannibal’s hand travels to the small of Will’s back as he pulls him in for a hug. Hannibal leans on him, burying his head in Will’s neck.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Hannibal can smell the salt on his skin, the iron in his blood. He can see Will’s heartbeat twitching in the vein in his neck. He wants oh so desperately to sink his teeth into Will’s skin, engorging himself on what must be the best blood he’s ever tasted. He won’t for the time being but he knows he’ll get a treat later. Will was thinking about it this morning while they were getting dressed. But for now, he’ll take the bag of O negative in the fridge.

“I’m feeling quite peckish. Dinner, my love?” Hannibal asks, pulling away, searching Will’s eyes.

“Only if you make it,” Will grabs his glass of wine off the counter, taking a sip. “I need to look through my notes for class tomorrow.”

“You think I’d let you make dinner?” Hannibal chuckles, pulling away and opening the fridge.

Will pulls back, an incredulous gasp escapes. “I take full offense.”

Hannibal loves riling him up. He takes out the human liver from the fridge, tossing it up and catching it. “I meant…” He began. “When you are here, in my home, I will always feed you. You think, not only being my boyfriend, but a guest in my house, that me - a highly skilled, trained chef wouldn’t cook for you?”

Will walks off, running a hand through his curls. “I just..” He groans, leaning against the counter. “I don’t want you to think I expect anything of you.”

“Will,” Hannibal cuts opening the packaging of the organ, pulling out a cutting board and laying the liver on it. “I am your partner. You should have some expectations, some standards. You let me drink your blood. Something I crave more than oxygen. It’s the bare minimum for me to keep you fed. Especially when I’m so good at it.” He smirks.

Will shakes his head and chuckles. God, I love you. If Hannibal had a heartbeat, it would have stopped momentarily. Will has yet to say that out loud but Hannibal heard that thought loud and clear. He doesn’t know if Will always remembers that he can read his mind. Hannibal does his very best not to mention things he’s heard Will think. It’s involuntary, most of the time, when he hears him. Things will just get quiet and Hannibal will tune in, absent-mindedly. It’s mostly thoughts of the gruesome scenes they see at work, replaying over and over. More than anything, he wants to ease those thoughts. He would compel Will to stop but that would take away his ability to do his job. And he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t find it curious and pleasurable to witness these thoughts.

“Movie after dinner?” Hannibal asks as he turns the stove eye on, placing a pan on it.

“Only if you let me pick,” Will digs through his bag he got off the counter.

Hannibal rolls his eyes. “If you suggest Nosferatu one more time…”

Will smiles. He pulls out the photos from the crime scene from earlier in the night. He walks around the counter with his glass of wine and sits down on a stool. He perches his elbows on the counter and peers through the photos, putting them on the marble and sifting through them. A werewolf serial killer, he thinks. How in the hell are we going to stop this guy?

-

Will groans loudly. Hannibal has his head pinned to the mattress, finger entwined in his curls. Hannibal’s other hand twisting Will’s arm, folding it on his back. Hannibal is damn near mesmerized by the sight of Will’s luscious ass bouncing against his cock. Hannibal grunts, yanking Will’s hair, making the younger man gasp egregiously. He’s rocking his hips into him with a fierce pace, blissful at the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Hanni-Hannibal…” Will cries out, placing his free hand on the headboard to keep himself steady.

Scratch me.

Now, this is the time Hannibal believes there’s nothing wrong with reading Will’s mind. Nothing nefarious comes from this. If anything, it causes more pleasure for the two of them. He pulls his hand from Will’s hair. He digs his sharp nails in Will’s back, dragging them slowly down his skin, breaking his flesh and watching as blood pools out. The scent hits him. He can feel his eyes go black, he can feel the veins pop up under his eyes. But Hannibal is nothing if not in full control of himself. He will wait.

Will drops the hand that holds him against the headboard. He leans on his elbow, burying his head in the crook of his free arm. He whines and whines, drool falling out of the side of his mouth. Hannibal pulls his bloody hand away front his back, raises it, and slaps Will ass as hard as possible, leaving a bloody hand print.

Hannibal frees Will’s arm, watching as Will holds himself up on both arms. He hooks his hands over Will’s shoulders and rams his hips into him, forcing a desperate moan out of Will. Tears prickle at the edge of Will’s waterline, begging to escape. He’s undeniably excited because he’s very close and he knows what’s about to happen.

Hannibal leans over his back, caging him in. One arm goes around Will’s waist and the other hand cups Will’s neck. “Say it.” Hannibal snarls, huffing onto Will’s neck.

Will can barely gather words he’s being fucked so hard. His breath hitches in his throat, “Do it,” He gasps. “Bite me.”

Hannibal pushes Will’s head to the side, making space. His eyes grow dark, veins creeping on his cheeks, and fangs sprouting from his teeth. He licks Will’s neck and then, in a flash, has his teeth buried in his skin. He comes instantly and begins to draw the most delicious, sweet, syrupy, rich liquid into his throat.

Will comes the instant Hannibal starts sucking. And here’s the funny thing about vampire sex - if a human is bitten during climax, they can continue to come for as long as the vampire continues to draw blood. Will stiffens, toes curling, he shakes and twitches as cum spurts out of his cock over and over and over and over again. “Fuuuuck…ah, ah, ah, godfuckingdamnit, shit, fuck me, Jesus fucking Christ,” Tears are pouring out of him, eyes rolling back into his skull. He fists the sheets, knuckles turning white. Hannibal’s grip on him tightens and he bites deeper. “Shit!” Will yells, hips bucking forward. He blinks slowly and he realizes his vision is getting blurry. He’s starting to feel dizzy and like he can’t catch his breath. “Hannibal…” He mumbles, head falling forward. “I’m gonna pass out.”

Hannibal pulls away instantly. His eyes return to their golden brown, veins have disappeared. He pulls out of Will and licks his neck, healing the bite mark instantaneously. He kisses Will’s neck and gently places him on his stomach. Will watches as Hannibal speeds around the room, grabbing a warm towelette and a snack within seconds. Will feels as if he’s on cloud nine, floating above the rest of the world. Hannibal sits next to him on the edge of the bed, leans down and licks his back, healing the scratch wounds. He flips a sleepy Will on his back and wipes the come off of his body.

Hannibal brings a cookie to Will’s mouth. “Macadamia and white chocolate. Eat.”

Will opens his mouth, taking a big bite. He keeps his eyes closed, reaching up and blindly taking the food into his hand and taking a few more bites. Hannibal zooms around the room, picking up articles of clothing. He comes back to the bed and slips Will into a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, all while Will’s still blindly eating his cookie. Hannibal gets into a red and black plaid pajama set and climbs to the opposite side of the bed.

“Is there more?” Will slurs, attempting to sit up and failing.

Hannibal laughs, reaching over Will to the nightstand where he left a whole package of cookies. “Would you like me to feed you?”

“Nah, I got it,” Will mumbles, mouth full of cookie. He takes in a deep breath and sighs loudly, out of pure bliss and relaxation. He swallows the second cookie and turns his head toward Hannibal, finally flitting his eyes open.

Hannibal is lying on his side, head resting on his hand. He reaches over and places a hand on Will’s chest, right over his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. He watches his hand on Will’s chest and then finds his eyes. “Thank you,” He whispers, as genuine as ever. “You don’t know what it means to me to have you trust me like that.”

“Well…” Will grabs the hand on his chest, rubbing his thumb over Hannibal’s knuckles. “It does help that you give me multiple consecutive orgasms.” The two share a laugh. Will gets quiet and gazes into Hannibal’s eyes. And Hannibal can’t help but think…

Say it. Say it out loud this time. Please.

“I…” Will begins. Hannibal holds his breath, clinging to hope. “I really, really enjoying being with you,” Will says earnestly. He clenches his jaw and then relaxes, breathing out. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this…free with someone,” Will places the bag of cookies on the nightstand and turns onto his side, facing Hannibal. “You’re the best part of my day.”

Hannibal smirks. That’s very, very close to an ‘I love you.’ Hannibal leans over, brushing his nose against Will’s. He presses their lips together, cupping the back of Will’s neck and slipping his tongue between his lips. He can’t get enough of the gentle scratch from Will’s beard. Will crawls up, not breaking the kiss, lying on Hannibal’s chest. “You taste like chocolate,” Hannibal mutters against Will’s lips. He smiles into the kiss. “Amongst other things.”

Will pulls away. He pushes Hannibal’s hair out of his face and pecks his lips quickly. He furrows his brows. “Do you ever get bored when I sleep?” He asks, curious.

Hannibal licks his teeth. “Truth or lie?”

“Truth.”

“I don’t. I either read or…” Hannibal watches Will search his eyes. “I watch you sleep. I do that the most. You get nightmares often and…” Hannibal shows Will his hand, wiggling his fingers. “I like to help… Do you remember dreams of being in a cabin at Christmas time?”

“Yes.” Will states.

Hannibal nods, points to himself, and mouths the word ‘me.’ Will takes his hand and kisses the back. He closes his eyes, holding Hannibal’s hand to his cheek, rubbing his skin with it. “Thank you,” Will hums. He presses his lips together Hannibal’s; soft, sweet kisses. “I need to get to sleep,” He yawns, kissing across Hannibal’s jaw.

“What time is your class tomorrow?” Hannibal asks, watching Will peel off his chest and lay back down on his side of the bed.

“Noon. But I have to be there at 10 to finalize my PowerPoint,” Will yawns again, even bigger this time. He ponders for a moment. “Can you…Can you make me fall asleep instantly?”

“I can,” Hannibal responds.

Will smiles. He scrunches himself up and pulls the covers up and over himself and Hannibal. He slips down into the bed, adjusting his pillows, and scooting closer to Hannibal, burying his head in Hannibal’s chest. They wrap their arms around each other, getting as close as possible. Hannibal pushes Will’s curls off his forehead, leans down, and presses a soft kiss to his skin. Within a millisecond, Will is snoring. Hannibal grins, holding Will’s head to his chest, making sure to touch his skin so he can give him a dream of sitting on a dock, fishing pole in hand, surrounded by his dogs. “I love you,” He sighs, perfectly content with staying in this position for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

Tonight is the first snowfall of December. It’s only 5p.m. and yet, it’s pitch black out. Will stands at his front window, watching the gentle flakes hit the ground, flying in the breeze. He’s dressed in a dark, olive green, long sleeve cotton shirt and black sweatpants. The crackling of the fire in the living room fills the air. Will takes a sip of his black decaf coffee, enjoying the bitter taste on his tongue. It’s hot and it slides down his throat, warming him up from the inside. This is his favorite time of year. He loves the quiet peace of winter. The juxtaposition of the black sky and white ground. It feels as if time stands still, beckoning its presence.

Will turns around, taking a step. A loud yelp echoes through the room. Will looks down, seeing Winston pick up his paw and jump back. Will sets his coffee on his desk and leans down. “Oh, Winnie! I’m so sorry,” He coos, running his hands through Winston’s fur, kissing his face. Winston is quick to forgive, returning the face kisses.

All of the dogs look up, ears perched, and they crowd the door. Will stands back up to the window and sees Hannibal’s car pulling in his driveway. The dogs move in circles, barking and panting from excitement. All of them love Hannibal - but that’s probably because he brings them the most decadent treats. Hannibal comes out of the car, towing a leather messenger back and dishes as he makes his way to the front door. Will smiles, raising his hand to wave at him. Will sternly tells the dogs to get back, knowing damn well they won’t listen, as he opens the door.

Hannibal is on the porch and Winston immediately pounces him, tongue flicking in the air, desperate to reach him. The two men laugh, watching the rest of the dogs circle Hannibal while he holds the dishes in the air, away from them.

“Hey!” Will snaps then whistles and claps once. The dogs turn and stare at him. “Inside. Now.”

Every one of them listens, purely out of respect. They plunder inside, jumping onto the furniture and laying in front of the fire. Will meets Hannibal, taking the dishes out of his hand. He tilts his face up and kisses him softly, humming lowly. “Come in,” Will tells him, walking in first with Hannibal following. “What’d you make me?” Will places the dishes on the side table near the couch and turns to Hannibal, helping him take off his coat and placing it on the hook on the front door.

“Breakfast for dinner,” Hannibal begins to tell him, watching as Will takes the blue lid off the frosted glass tupperware. “Soft boiled quail eggs, Italian liverwurst, and homemade, whole wheat Belgian waffles with an apricot jam.”

Will brings the dish to his face, inhaling its scent. Hannibal pulls out the mason jar of apricot jam and hands it to Will. “This looks and smells divine, Hannibal,” Will takes a quail egg and puts it in his mouth. It’s warm and jammy, firm but soft. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes in pleasure. “Holy shit… Thank you,” He says with a mouth full of food. Will sits down on the couch, digging into his meal. Hannibal zooms into the kitchen in a flash, bring Will a butter knife for the jam. Hannibal sits down on the couch next to him.

Will picks up the sausage link and brings it to his mouth. He pauses. “When you say Italian sausage… Do you mean flavor or… lineage?”

Hannibal smirks, watching Will’s face go blank. “I mean both,” He states, leaning down and petting one of the dogs. “The blend of herbs I used are traditionally Italian…” He says plainly. “And Giavanni Amato, a man who tortured and killed two little boys, was also Italian.”

You’d think it’s bother Will to be knowingly eating people. But when it’s people like that - he doesn’t mind so much. And Hannibal has told him a couple of times that human meat makes his blood not only taste better but also keeps him fuller for longer. Will slowly takes a bite of the sausage, chewing it hesitantly. The spices dance on his tongue, causing him to salivate. He can’t deny that this is some of the best sausage he’s ever had. Hannibal just can’t make bad food.

“So…” Will swallows his food. “Are you prepared?”

Hannibal nods. He leans back against the couch, getting comfortable. He’s in a navy blue sweater, with a white collar poking out of the neckline. He’s got black dress pants on and black leather loafers. Will watches him spread his arms across the back of the couch and cross his left leg over his right. He bites his lower lip momentarily, enthralled at the sight. He finishes the first sausage, eats two more quail eggs, then opens the can of jam and spread it on one of the waffles. He takes a big bite. It’s crunchy and sweet. He detects notes of lemon and cinnamon. In another world, he would have hired Hannibal as a full time private chef.

Will finishes the majority of his food and sets the dishes on the side table. He leans his back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me everything I need to know about werewolves,” He says, scratching at his beard. “You’ve told me a lot about vampires. No sunlight unless you wear your ring that has your DNA embedded in the metal. No sleeping, no heartbeat. Impossibly fast and strong. The ability to read minds and even the ability to compel people into thinking whatever you want them to think. A heightening of all the senses. And the need for human blood.”

“Correct,” Hannibal replies.

“I’m trying to understand the psychopathy of Eric Chance’s killer,” Will crosses his arms. “Is it more instinct or is this guy fucked in the head?”

“One could argue tying a man naked to the wall is instinct. But I believe he’s relying on both,” Hannibal tells him. “Most werewolves just hunt. They find prey in remote areas. The majority of werewolves don’t want to be known. We’ve established this killer desperately wants to be known. Like you said - he’s an Alpha with no pack. Which can be a very dangerous thing.”

“How so?”

“When werewolves have a family, they are not feral. They feel human emotions, they can empathize. When a werewolf is alone, especially an Alpha, they are brutal. They feel no remorse. Their hunger knows no bounds. They live off the hearts of living beings, mainly humans. Werewolves who feel for their victims go for a quick kill. Whoever killed Eric Chance is sadistic,” Hannibal states clearly. “I believe he thinks his sadism is what keeps him from finding a family. He can’t help his nature but he’s utterly ashamed of it.”

Will processes the information. He watches the fire, embers floating up through the chimney. “He wants a family as twisted as him. But like you said, most werewolf kills are merciful, not vicious,” Will holds his face in his hand, the pad of his thumb pressed against his lips. “Hannibal… How do you kill a werewolf?”

Hannibal raises his eyebrows, somewhat surprised at Will’s question. “Two ways,” Hannibal starts. “A vampire can kill a werewolf simply by biting him. A vampire bite clots their blood, killing them within seconds. The other way is a bit more vicious,” He adds. “You have to remove his arms, leg, and head and burn him in a fire. Both ways have to be done on a full moon. The way a werewolf comes into the world has to be the same way he leaves.”

Will nods, pondering another question he’s never asked before. “How do you kill a vampire?”

Hannibal makes eye contact with him, smirking. “Take away their ring and put them in the sun or an oak stake through the heart,” Hannibal leans into Will. “Don’t get any ideas.” He grins.

Will smiles. He reaches over to his food once more, eating the last few bites. “Do you want to stay here tonight? I know it’s not.. up to your standards but we can watch the dogs play in the snow in the morning.”

“Up to my standards,” Hannibal repeats, nearly mocking him. “Will, I love your house. It’s quaint, charming. I’d love to stay here.”

-

“You are unbelievably tense,” Hannibal finds a knot in Will’s shoulder. He presses his thumb to the lump and rubs it in circles. He’s sitting behind him on the bed, legs open with Will in between them, shirtless and with his back turned. Will is leaned forward, groaning in relief as Hannibal massages his back with precision.

“You do realize what I do for a living,” Will replies. Goosebumps prickle across his skin as Hannibal travels his hands down his back, thumbs rubbing in circles as the base of his spine He arches his back involuntarily. He sighs, dropping his hand. “Are you a professionally trained masseuse?”

“Yes,” Hannibal brings his hands up to Will’s neck, turning his head slowly in a circle, stretching his muscles. “I learned in the 60s. I was the only male in my class.”

“Do you know everything?” Will scoffs, teasing.

“Breathe in,” Hannibal asks him. Will takes in a deep breath through his nose. Hannibal holds his jaw, pulling to the side slowly and then twisting fast and instantly - CRACK. Will gasps, breathing hard and falling forward.

“Fucking Christ,” Will moans, laying face first on the mattress. He sits back up, stretching his back and swiveling his neck. “Are you a chiropractor too?!”

Hannibal kisses the back of his neck. “I got that degree after I finished massage therapy school,” He wraps his arms around Will’s waist, peppering kisses across his shoulder. Will leans against him and sighs happily. He begins to space out, thinking about something he hasn’t thought about before. Hannibal makes an effort to listen to the other noises in the house, so he doesn’t hear Will’s thoughts. But he’s nothing if not ever curious. “What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?” Will comes to. “Oh… I was just wondering,” He twists himself around, still sitting between Hannibal’s legs, but now facing him. “Would you ever turn me into a vampire?”

Hannibal thinks for a moment. “Yes,” He admits. “But you’d have to ask me. You’d have to be fully willing. I wouldn’t just do that to you. It would be selfish of me.”

“I understand,” Will’s mind wonders again. It’s like he can’t stop himself from asking questions. He knows Hannibal will be honest with him. “What do I taste like?”

Hannibal beams. “Like the nectar from the sweetest, plumpest elderberry. Warm like broth but tingly like menthol. Magical, divine, otherworldly.”

Will breathes in, heart pounding. That shouldn’t be turning him on but it is. He wraps his arms around Hannibal’s neck and leans in, kissing him deeply. Hannibal kisses him back, feverishly. He moves them; pushing Will forward and onto his back, laying on top of him. He flicks his tongue inside Will’s mouth, tasting all of him. His hands explore, sliding across Will’s bare chest and the other, pulling his leg up and wrapping it around his waist. He can’t help the rocking of his hips into Will’s, the two of them moaning into each others mouths. Will wraps his other leg around Hannibal’s hip, pulling him close. He paws at his pajama’s, sloppily undoing the buttons. His mouth hangs open, breathing hard, as Hannibal kisses around his lips.

“Can I try something?” Hannibal asks, peering into Will’s steel blue eyes.

Will nods. “Do whatever you want to me.”

Hannibal’s eyes grow dark, irises turning pitch black. He takes one hand and slides it down Will’s abdomen. Golden sparks emit from the friction. Will arches his back, gasping and crying out, unsure of what is currently happening. He rolls his hips up, mindlessly, searching for touch. Hannibal repeats the motion, swiping his hands down from Will’s neck to his chest. Zaps of heat springing across Will’s skin. Will’s eyes are closed, brows furrowed, as long, pathetic whines fill the air. He can’t form a sentence - hell, he can’t even form a word right now. He’s harder than he ever has been and he’s leaking precum in his pants.

Hannibal lets out a growl, fangs popping out. He’s unsure if he will bite Will. He did technically give him consent to do anything he wanted to him. He waits, wanting to enjoy this for a bit longer. Will is trembling, rolling his torso, gripping the blanket under him. Hannibal continues to paw at him, letting the heat and electricity dance across Will’s skin. Will’s cries are getting more and more high pitched, driving Hannibal insane. Hannibal leans down, scraping Will’s neck with his fangs. He runs his hands down Will’s arms, making him choke and sob.

Hannibal bites his skin, shaking, and locking his jaw. Will’s eyes flick open and he practically howls as he comes harder than he ever has before. He’s quivering as the orgasm continues on for over 30 seconds. He’s fully crying, blinking as the tears pour out of his eyes. He still can’t speak, jaw shaking. He needs to tell Hannibal to stop, he’s getting overstimulated. Hannibal has told him before that if they get into deep into this to tap him on the shoulder twice to ask him to stop. Will, still coming and crying, reaches up to Hannibal. He pats Hannibal’s shoulder and then drops his arm.

The vampire pulls away, completely sated. He can’t tell if Will’s about to fall asleep or pass out. He touches his index finger to Will’s forehead. Will’s eyes flutter open. He stares at Hannibal, focusing on breathing in and out deeply. Hannibal licks his wounds and then sits on his knees, watching over Will.

“What…the fuck was that?” Will demands in between breaths.

Hannibal instantly becomes worried. He fears it was too much for Will. He should’ve talked to him before he did that. He didn’t even know if it was going to work, he just wanted to try. “I’m sorry…” Hannibal apologizes sincerely. “I should have told you about that. I didn’t even know if it was going to work. I’m so sorry.”

Will laughs, shaking his head. “Sorry?” He repeats. “Hannibal… Don’t apologize. That may have been the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Jesus Christ…” He sits up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Seriously… What was that?”

Hannibal swallows. He’s always honest with Will but he doesn’t know if this will push him too fast too soon. They’ve only been seeing each other for a month and a half. But Will has been the only person he’s ever known that he can completely and totally honest with. Hannibal sits next to him. “I’m telling you this because I want to be truthful. I refuse to lie to you. Just know that.. I’m not expecting for you to say or do anything because of this. Take your time with your feelings,” Hannibal says genuinely. Will looks at him, confused. “When a vampire meets their soulmate, their powers increase. I noticed I could smell you, even from an hour away, when I was coming here tonight. Lights are sparkling more. I wanted it to rain a few days ago and it did, within minutes.”

Will gets flustered, cheeks turning blush pink. He breaks eye contact with Hannibal, looking down at his hands on his knees. “That’s…” Will breathes out. “Astonishing.”

I can’t say it. It’s too soon. He’ll think I’m insane.

Hannibal blinks, chest aching from Will’s thoughts. He places his hand on top of Will’s. “You can be honest with me too,” He says sweetly. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it.”

Will’s eyes get wide, staring into Hannibal’s. Hannibal smiles softly, looking at his partner who looks like a vulnerable little puppy dog. Will searches Hannibal’s eye, opening his mouth slightly and then closing it, looking away. He buries his head in his hands. “I need a shower,” He gets up off the bed and walks away, leaving Hannibal utterly disappointed.

-

Will has a tight grip on Hannibal’s sleeve. He buries his head in his chest and lets out a choked sob. His face twists with sadness, tears staining Hannibal’s shirt. Hannibal kisses the top of his head, “It’s okay. You’re okay. What’s going on?”

“I-I’m scared to lose you,” Will sniffles, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can’t lose you.”

Hannibal finally understands.

Three years ago, Will lost his partner, Eddie Howser, to a hate crime. Will has told Hannibal about that, especially when Hannibal was just his therapist, but he didn’t realize how deep the wounds were. Years later and he still aches over this. It definitely makes sense but Will hasn’t brought it up in some time.

Hannibal gently pulls Will away from his chest and looks him directly in the eyes. He leans down and kisses away his tears. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. Remember what we’ve worked on? The grounding?”

Will’s breath shakes and he sniffles. “My name is Will Graham. It’s December 2nd, 2014. I’m 39 years old. I’m in my house in Wolf Trap, Virginia,” His breathing begins to slow down. “My dogs are safe in the house. I’m safe in the house. I’m with you, in my bed. I can hear the fire. I can hear Winston snoring. I feel the blanket on my skin.” Will wipes his cheeks and sighs, returning to normal breathing.

Hannibal cups Will’s face. “Good boy,” He hears Will’s heart flutter. He can’t help the smile on his face. “It’s more than okay to feel these emotions… but I don’t want you afraid of the future and living in the past.”

“I know,” Will uses his sleeve to rub his face. “I’m normally okay but… I don’t know. Tonight, I just feel it a little more.” His bottom lip trembles.

“And that’s perfectly okay. Normal, even. Grief lingers forever but time eases the ache,” Hannibal tells him, kissing his forehead. “Do you want to sleep? I can help you. Tell me what you want to dream of.”

“Not yet,” Will sighs. “I want to be with you a little longer.”

“Works for me,” Hannibal rubs Will’s back. Hannibal wants to change the subject; a distraction tactic. “Would you like to go on vacation together? I have a castle in Lithuania and it’s undeniably gorgeous in the winter time.”

Will pulls away, looking at him, utterly shocked. “You have a fucking castle?” He scoffs. “Just how rich are you? I’m serious, I want a number.”

Hannibal knows he can tell Will. He knows Will will not take advantage of his spoils. Not like Will could ever make a dent in his riches but he’s just never told a soul how much money he’s made over the years. Hannibal smirks. “Upwards of around 300 million.”

Will’s mouth hangs open, staring blankly. “What?”

“I’ve been alive for over a century and a half. I’ve had every high paying profession you can think of.”

“Oh, my Christmas list is going to be long this year,” Will teases. “I’m going to need a new phone, three more dogs, a trip to Canada, Washington State, Ireland…”

Hannibal chuckles, “Shut up.” He kisses him softly.

The two get quiet, just looking into each others eyes. Hannibal realizes he can never go without Will. He wants to change him, so, so badly. But he will not unless explicitly asked to. He can’t bear the thought of living forever without this man by his side. He could be sad about it taking so long for him to find his person but that would just be unproductive. Instead, he pulls him in and enjoys the present - the sound of Will’s breathing, the snow falling outside, and the undeniable knowing that he’s found his soulmate.

Chapter Text

Will pants as he sits back on his knees. He’s completely naked; intrinsically tied up with rope, arms folded behind his back. He’s got an expensive, black silk blindfold on and costly Japanese noise-cancelling earbuds tucked in his auricle, blaring deep bass EDM in his eardrums. He has a golden cock ring sitting at the base of his shaft. He’s completely and totally in sensory deprivation.

Hannibal fists Will’s hair, pulling him in again, giving him no time to catch his breath. He pushes his cock past Will’s lips, forcing himself down his throat. Will makes a gagging noise that can only be described as angelic, heavenly. Hannibal pulls out, a string of saliva pulling from his cock. He’s relentless; he puts himself back in Will’s warm throat and rocks his hips at a rough pace. He grunts staring down at Will, making sure he’s tuning into his thoughts.

Will practically begged him to do this. They haven’t done anything too terribly kinky yet and Will was dying to try. He wanted to see what limits Hannibal would push him to. Hannibal was hesitant at first, afraid he would go too far, but Will reminded him he could just read his mind to make sure everything was going smoothly. Once Hannibal realized that, he immediately went online and purchased the items necessary.

Hannibal fucks Will’s throat, eyes growing dark at the sight of the curly haired man choking on his cock. He hisses through his teeth and pushes Will to the hilt of his shaft, pausing and keeping him there. He pulls on Will’s hair, bobbing his head up and down.

Breathing.

Hannibal hears him and pulls out. Will chokes and coughs, breathing hard, chest puffing in and out. His lips are swollen and pink and his hair is a total, disheveled mess. The skin on his chest and base of his neck is red, prickled with heat. Will told him to be as rough as he wanted - so, he’s going to obey. He is a service top after all.

Hannibal grabs his shaft and presses the tip against Will’s lips. Will, still breathing hard, licks around and sucks at the tip. Hannibal doesn’t have to move because Will takes him in himself. Hannibal wraps his fingers around the back of Will’s head and begins thrusting ferociously. Will makes despicable noises, only bringing Hannibal closer to climax. Hannibal gasps, hips stuttering as shoots cum down Will’s throat. Will chokes at first but swallows it quickly. Hannibal pulls him off.

Time for part two.

This was all Will wanted - to be fucked beyond comprehension. Hannibal gathers himself and then walks behind Will, grabbing his bicep and helping him stand up. It’s only a few steps to the bed but Will is stumbling. Hannibal grabs his hips and guides him. Once at the edge of the bed, Hannibal pushes him down, face first. He watches Will’s smushed face on the blanket as he attempts to gather himself. Hannibal strokes himself, still slick with Will’s spit. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again, thanks to vampire stamina. He tunes into Will’s thoughts and hears nothing but the soundwaves of the music playing in his ears. Good.

Hannibal lines himself up to Will’s hole, knowing he’s already prepped. He slowly buries his cock deep inside him, bringing Will’s ass to the base of his cock. He begins pushing in and out slowly, attempting to give Will a moment to adjust.

“Mooore…” Will groans, trying to fuck himself on Hannibal’s cock.

Hannibal smirks, delighted. He grips Will’s hips and begins to pick up the pace, slamming into his tight hole. His mouth stays open, tongue curled up, as he’s purely focused on pleasing Will. One hand stays grasping Will’s hip and the other makes its way to the top of Will’s shoulder, getting a better hold on him as he goes at an unrelenting pace. He watches as sweat beads down Will’s back, getting soaked up by the rope.

The whines that come out of Will’s mouth escape without his knowing. They’re long and continuous, filling the air and tickling Hannibal’s eardrums. “Daddy…” Will sobs, unaware of the words leaving his lips. He’s deep in subspace. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Daddy, please…” His words catch in his throat as he starts crying.

Hannibal snarls; his fangs pop out, eyes black as night. He’s not going to bite him, that’d be too much right now, but he’s inexplicably turned on and he can’t help his animalistic nature coming to the forefront. He rams his hips into him at the beat of Will’s music, drawing out more pathetic moans from the younger man.

“Please…” Will’s face is scrunched up, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please. Let me come, please.”

Hannibal pounds into him, pushing Will’s head into the blanket. He watches as Will lets out a string of gibberish, completely unable to form a word. He picks up his pace and grunts loudly, coming deep inside Will. He pulls out and lets go of Will’s hair, leaving him momentarily. Will is a puddle of tears, draped over the bed, humping the mattress in search of orgasm. Hannibal reaches to the nightstand and pulls out some lube. He squirts a few pumps into his hand and rubs it together. He comes back to Will, pulling his hips back and reaching over to his cock. Hannibal squeezes the base, slowly twisting the cock ring off. Will lets out a loud scream as he shakes violently, coming long and hard all over the bed as Hannibal jerks him off. Will begins to catch his breath, inhaling deep and slow. He feels himself start to drift off and he fully gives in.

-

Will’s eyes flutter open. He looks at the scene. He’s underneath the blood red comforter on Hannibal’s bed. He’s in his typical pajamas; a white t-shirt and boxers. He’s laying on Hannibal’s torso, as Hannibal sits under him. He looks up, blinking. Hannibal has a book in one hand and a wine glass half full of AB positive in the other, taking a sip.

“Hi,” Will says softly, twinging at the roughness of his voice. He clears his throat, grabbing at his neck. Fuck, he’s gonna be sore. Worth it.

Hannibal looks down, smiling. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” He says, then realizing the irony. “How are you feeling?”

Will arches his back slowly, stretching as best as he can. He gets a whiff of himself - lavender and pine. He looks up at Hannibal. “Did you bathe me?”

“You must have really been out of it,” Hannibal chuckles. He puts his drink and book down on the nightstand. “You were in and out of consciousness but I figured I’d still provide aftercare, even with you in dreamland,” Hannibal leans down, kissing Will’s cheek. “I don’t have words for how exceptional that was. You were perfect.” The words ooze out sweetly, dripping like honey off the comb.

The blush that creeps up on Will’s cheeks is involuntary. He’s admittedly flustered thinking about what they did earlier in the night. “Thank you for doing that with me,” He says sheepishly. “It was.. God, it was so good.”

Hannibal gleams, proud of Will for accepting his nature. “You like being tied up?” Hannibal quizzes.

Will breathes out, remembering how sweet yet utterly dominate Hannibal was when he was tying him up. He manhandled him, twisting and turning him without asking for permission. “Yes,” Will admits, his breathing turns shallow.

“You enjoy being controlled, manipulated - physically. The lack of decision making is appealing to you, no?” Hannibal has his therapist hat on at the moment, genuinely interested in psychology of Will’s kinks.

“Yes,” Will repeats, biting his lip.

“I think I understand why you find me so attractive,” Hannibal smirks. “I offer you a break from your reality. I can take care of you; feed you, please you. You want someone else to hold the reigns. It makes sense, with how taxing your profession is.”

Will scratches the back of his head, feeling almost a little too understood. He feels genuinely embarrassed. But then another thought creeps in. “Wait,” Will begins. “I don’t want you to think I only like you because you do things for me. I like you because you’re you and I find you quite interesting. You don’t have to be doing anything for me. I enjoy just being together.”

“I know,” Hannibal grins. “My mind just can’t help to try to figure you out. You’re-”

“And I can do things for you too.” Will interrupts, feeling intensely defensive, slightly pissed off. “You can rely on me. I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself.”

Hannibal shifts himself, turning to face Will who’s sitting crisscrossed on the other side of the bed, head buried in his hands. He takes Will’s hands and brings them to his lips, kissing the back of them. “I’m sorry,” He whispers. “I shouldn’t psychoanalyze you. That probably felt a little too vulnerable. I didn’t mean to. I just like how your mind works. You’re fascinating,” Will looks up at him, brows furrowed. “I know you can take care of me too. I wasn’t insinuating that. You’re not selfish. If I ever need help, you will be the first person I ask. Just remember how long I’ve been around. I’ve gotten quite good at existing.”

“Sorry,” Will mumbles, immediately forgiving Hannibal.

“And don’t think for a second that I don’t think you can take care of yourself. I know we have a unique relationship dynamic but we are equals. I’ve never once thought less of you or thought I had more power over you,” Hannibal purses his lips, frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I got too defensive, you got too real with me…” Will recaps. “Everything’s okay. I’m okay. Are you?”

“Positively,” Hannibal kisses Will’s hands once more. Will meets his eyes and Hannibal smiles brightly. Will looks at him, puzzled. “I think that was the first time you’ve gotten upset with me.”

“Well, that was anticlimactic. And over something so stupid too,” Will laughs. “Good intentions all around but the way it came about was less than agreeable.”

Hannibal leans forward, pressing his lips to Will’s. Will cups his cheek, kissing him back. Hannibal climbs on top of him, pushing him down onto the sheets, wrapping his arms around Will’s waist, making sure not to break the kiss. He loves how warm Will is, it feels so good against his cool skin. “I like when you get defensive,” Hannibal mutters against Will’s lips. “I like when you’re mad at me.”

Will laughs, kissing Hannibal’s lips over and over again. “You’re a fucking freak.”

-

“Where is he? He said he’d be here an hour ago,” Will complains, checking his watch. “It’s going rain. I want to leave before it freezes over the roads.”

Hannibal and Will are in Jack’s office, waiting for him to arrive with news of another kill. Will’s pacing around the room, irritated and ready to go home. Hannibal is sitting in one of the chairs in front of Jack’s desk, legs crossed. He watches Will walk back and forth. They would have went to the crime scene but Will had a doctors appointment and Hannibal… Well, Hannibal was just hungry.

Jack walks in, raising his hand as a plea. “I know, I know. I’m late,” He says, lugging in a briefcase, sitting it on his desk, and removing his coat and scarf. “We needed to get as many photos are possible since you couldn’t be there in person.”

Will walks up to the desk and sits in the empty chair. Jack opens his brief case and pulls out a plethora of snapshots of the crime scene, handing them to Will. Will swipes through the photos, looking at the two victims. He places himself inside the scene.

The golden light swishes behind his eyes.

Will stands in front of his male victim. The victim is tied to a stake, bare naked. One the other side of the stake is a female victim. Will looks down. His hands have turned into massive, furry paws. He stretches his hands out, claws pushing out. He stands tall, looming over the two victims. He looks to the side, bearing his teeth. He sees Hannibal in front of the female victim. He morphs and shifts into another beast, throwing his hand out and wrapping his claws around the female victims throat.

The two victims are in complete distress, crying out and begging to be let go. The two beasts howl in unison, climbing up onto the stake. They move together, tearing into the flesh on each victims limbs. Thick spurts of blood coat their fur as they mangle the two victims, biting and ripping at their skin. The two reach into their victims’ chests, tearing out their hearts and sinking their teeth into the slick organ.

“This is our design.”

Will’s eyes flutter open.

“Eric Chance’s killer has found a mate. At the very least, a family member. The beginning of his pack,” Will states. “His kills are only going to get worse. He’s finally found another person who matches his desires.”

“Family sees the best and the worst of us,” Hannibal inputs. “Will’s right. There are only going to be more killings and they will only get more unhinged. This happened on the full moon, correct?” Jack nods. “Just like the first kill. This will happen again in a month. I suggest forming a team to watch over the wooded areas in Wolf Trap next month.”

Will looks over at Hannibal, brows stitched together. It’s a death sentence. The FBI cannot take down two feral werewolves. They shouldn’t even know these beings exist. Why is Hannibal trying to get them to catch the beasts in action? Maybe it’s just a formality - something he has to say in order for him to appear just like everyone else. That’s probably it. Hannibal wouldn’t lead an entire team to their deaths… Would he?

-

It’s a little over 7:30 in the evening and Will and Hannibal are in the car, driving to Hannibal’s home, while snow blazes down outside. The wipers of the car swish back and forth at a steady pace as Will sits up to keep his eyes focused on the road. “Do you think…” Will begins, wondering if he should bring this up. “Do you think you’ll have to be the one to kill the werewolves? Letting the FBI into this world… It’s a bit dangerous. Not only could they be killed but if they know about werewolves, it’s only a matter of time before they find out about vampires, witches, trolls. They could find out about you.”

Hannibal nods. “I will be the one to kill them,” He states, reassuring Will. “I have an inkling of where they will kill next and I plan on staying there the next full moon. If there are any officers, I will either compel them or put them to sleep. No one will know about me.”

Will looks at him briefly. Hannibal is calm, staring out the passenger window, watching the snow. “Can you take on two werewolves? I mean, isn’t that dangerous?”

“Well,” Hannibal begins, making eye contact with Will. “Somewhat dangerous. But I’m faster, stronger, and smarter than them. Remember, I can kill them in seconds with just one bite using my venom. It would be a much more merciful kill than what they’ve been doing.”

“I don’t know,” Will glances at the road and back at Hannibal. “I just don’t have a good fe-”

“Will!” Hannibal sits up, shouting desperately loud.

Will had veered off the lines of the road. A semi truck was inches away. In a full blown panic, Will yanks the steering wheel, hitting a patch of ice and running off the road. He’s completely blind with sheets of snow falling on the windshield. The car bounces and swerves. The loudest crunching of metal and the burst of shattered glass fills the air.

Everything goes black.

- - -

Hannibal’s eyes flash open. He blinks a few times, wiping away his blurry vision. He looks down. A tree branch has pierced his abdomen, shattered glass stuck in his legs which are completely trapped under the dash of crumpled front of the car. They hit a massive tree on the side of the road. It hurts like hell and it’s uncomfortable but he knows he will be fine.

Will.

Hannibal snaps his head around and his mouth falls open. Will is in the exactly same predicament; legs crushed, broken glass in his torso, and a branch piercing through his intestines. Blood is pouring out of the gash on his forehead. Will is sitting straight up, hyperventilating and crying. He’s completely frozen.

Thump…. Thump…. Thump….

Hannibal moves quickly. He rips the branch out of his own stomach and tossing it through the busted windshield, grunting from the pain. He takes both of his hands and pushes the crumpled car off his legs. He’s already healing.

“Will…” He grabs Will’s face, panicked. Will’s head is falling down repeatedly, he’s trying his best to stay.

“I-I-I c-can’t f-feel anything…” He sobs in agony, face twisted in fear.

“Will, your legs are completely shattered. There is a branch through your body,” Hannibal rushes to explain to him. “You are dying. Will, if you make it, you will be paralyzed from the neck down,” Will’s eyes close and his head falls forward. Hannibal picks his head up and taps his cheeks over and over. Will is barely conscious.

“Will.” Hannibal says firmly. “I can stop this. You know I can fix this. Let me fix this.”

A single tear falls out of Will’s eye, streaming down his cheek and mixing with his blood. He smiles weakly, coughing up blood. Hannibal can see it in his eyes. He’s giving in. “I love you…” He whispers, sighing out and closing his eyes, leaning his head back.

Thump…

Hannibal is out of his mind. He’s shouting, shaking Will, begging him to wake up. A tear of blood escapes from his eye. He sits back, watching as his soulmate begins to fade away.

Thump…

Hannibal’s face twists with anger and determination. “No.” He growls. He lurches forward and bites Will’s neck as hard as ever, pushing his venom into the veins in Will’s neck. He bites over and over across Will’s neck and chest, spreading his venom as deep as he can into the curly haired man’s lifeless body. He sits back, covered in blood.

Thu-

…

Chapter Text

The fabric underneath him feels different. He can feel every stitch, every cotton fiber, as his hand twitches over the smooth cloth. He’s in a bed, he realizes. The mattress is much more comfortable now, hugging and holding every curve of his body, in all the right places. He sighs happily, enjoying the peace of being in bed. So, this is my heaven? Will thinks, eyes closed and smiling to himself as he stretches gently on the comforter.

Will inhales through his nose.

And it hits him.

Will shoots up, sitting straight up in the bed, as the most intense, disturbing, violent hunger hits his belly. He can smell him. He looks around the room, realizing he’s in Hannibal’s bedroom. He looks down at his body, remembering how bad of shape his was in the last time he was lucid. He pats his body, dressed in black slacks and white, long sleeve button up shirt. He shifts to the side of the bed, standing up. He needs to go look at himself. He takes one step forward and within an instant, he’s standing in front of mirror in Hannibal’s bathroom.

Will gazes at himself. Something is… different. His cheekbones and jawline are more chiseled, his skin looks at least a shade lighter. He looks younger. He sees his chest peek out from the undone buttons on his shirt, noticing how his pecs are drastically more defined. He notices something else. He walks up to the mirror, leaning against the counter. He peers in and sees that his eyes are blood red. A horrible feeling sinks into the pit of his stomach.

Will opens his mouth and his eyes get wide. His canine teeth are longer and come to a sharp point.

A vicious wave of rage hits him smack dab in the middle of his chest. There has never been a point in his life where he was more furious than in this moment.

Footsteps echo in the room. “You’re up!” Hannibal states with enthusiasm, coming behind Will in the bathroom.

Will runs up to him, zipping them out of the bathroom. He picks Hannibal up by the throat and pins him against the bedroom wall. He lets out a low, guttural growl, tightening his grip on Hannibal. Hannibal wraps his hands are Will’s wrist; his head is titled back and he stares at Will, tongue flicked over his front teeth.

“What…” Will snarls, hissing, his words leaking out like poison. “What did you do?”

“Will,” Hannibal chokes out. “You were seconds away from dying. I could hear your heart. You weren’t going to make it.”

“I was okay with that!” Will shouts. He notices a sparkle on his ring finger on his right hand. He drops Hannibal. He looks down at the silver ring, It matches Hannibal’s - a dragon etched in silver over a sapphire stone backing. Hannibal’s has a ruby stone backing. Will looks back at Hannibal who’s leaned up against the wall, watching over him. Will puts his hands on Hannibal’s chest and slams him into the wall, putting a hole in the drywall. A blood tear falls from his eye. “I didn’t want this,” He says through gritted teeth, words dripping with regret. “I wanted to grow old. I wanted to see the grey in my hair, the crows feet, the smile lines.”

“You never told me,” Hannibal says softly.

“You said you would never turn me unless I asked,” Will glares at him. Pure unbridled anger courses through him. He doesn’t know what to do. The last thing he remembers is telling the man in front of him that he loved him and now…this. Will turns away, burying his face in his hands. His hands fall and he throws his head back. He inhales through his nose, not that he needs to, purely out of instinct - and he smells him again. The rash hunger pings inside him once more. “Is someone here?”

“I knew you’d wake soon so I got you a gift,” Hannibal tells him gently. He speeds away and comes back in an instant, bringing along a man. “Say hello to Robert. He’s a repeated sex offender.” Robert is compelled and is standing there, vacant.

Robert’s heartbeat echoes in Will’s ear, making his head throb. He can smell him and he smells like maple syrup. Hannibal pushes Robert onto Will, forcing him to collapse into Will’s arms. Will is fighting every single instinct inside him. He picks Robert up, letting him fall on his chest. Will pants, confused and pissed off and hungry - oh so unbelievably hungry. His eyes go black and purple veins pop up on his cheeks. He leans into Robert’s neck and sniffs him again, delighting in the sickeningly sweet smell. He lurches forward and sinks his teeth into his skin, biting down hard. He begins to suck the dark, sticky liquid down his throat. Nothing has ever tasted so perfect in his entire life. His nails dig into Robert’s skin, gripping him tighter and tighter as he drains him. He’s a bit sloppy with it, as this is his first feed. He gulps and swallows every bit of Robert’s blood, completely draining the life out of him. Will drops his lifeless body on the floor.

Will stands up straight, retracting his fangs. Blood is smeared down from his mouth to his neck to his chest and on his shirt. Hannibal ogles over him, mouth agape, eyes twinkling. He’s in awe. Not only is this the love of his life but this is his creation. And it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Hannibal drops to his knees in front of Will. He presses his head against Will’s stomach.

“How long was I out?” Will asks flatly.

“Three days. It typically takes a day for the change to settle in but… You were in rough shape,” Hannibal looks up at him. “Will, I can’t do this without you. I couldn’t bare the thought of you being gone.”

Will looks down at him in pure disgust. “Get used to it,” Will pushes him off, fucking livid, walking away to grab his things from the nightstand across the room.

Hannibal speeds over to him. “Will…” Will looks at him blankly. Hannibal’s expression is soft and full of remorse. Will feels a twinge of sadness. Memories of their time together flood his mind. Shared laughs, nights spent wrapped in each others arms, stolen kisses. He’s never been more himself than he is when he is with Hannibal. He wanted his last words to be just for Hannibal. But he can’t deny his feelings right now. He didn’t want this.

Will tilts his head, looking at Hannibal sadly. “I don’t know what I want…” He says, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I need time.”

Hannibal nods, understanding him completely. He walks away, preparing himself to depose of the dead body in the room. He picks up Robert and puts him over his shoulder. “Will?”

“Yes?”

“Clean yourself up before you go. You’re a mess.”

-

Will sits on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, arms folded across his knees with his chin resting on his arms. All he wants is to go to sleep and wake up again, in a different reality. But he can’t do that. He can’t go to sleep. And he can’t change what has happened.

He can’t stop thinking about Hannibal. This is the last person he wants to think about right now and yet, he’s the only thing on his mind. His body is aching for his touch, for his scent, for his kiss. His desire for Hannibal is almost as strong as his desire for blood. Will closes his eyes, trying to think of something else.

Can you hear me?

Hannibal’s voice rings in his head.

“What the fuck?” Will snaps, startled.

I take that as a yes.

Will is utterly confused. What is happening? He thinks.

There is something I haven’t told you. Something that happens between a vampire and whomever he turns.

Will pauses, keeping silent so he can listen.

When a vampire turns a human, an unbreakable bond forms. The person turned and the vampire becomes obsessive over one another. It can be familial or platonic. But in our case, we had a romantic relationship, which means the feelings we had for each other before this happened, are only going to get more intense. For one, we can now communicate simply through thinking. I’m sure you’ve already been dealing with incessant thoughts of me.

Will stays quiet. Processing and feeling anger prickle at his skin.

The two of us will also experience stronger powers. You’ll have to let me know if anything comes up, if you need any help.

Will sighs, throwing his head back against the wall, denting it. Okay, he thinks.

I’m sure you want to be left alone. I just didn’t want you experiencing these things and being alarmed… Goodnight, Will.

Will grabs the glass jar of water on his night stand and flings it across the room. It hits the wall and shatters into a million pieces, water spilling all over the wall. The dogs jump up, all ears pointed up as they all stare at Will. Will looks at them, feeling sorry for startling them. “It’s okay,” He says softly. He speeds out of the bed, grabbing a broom and dust pan, coming back into the room to sweep up the glass. Winston comes over to sniff him. He steps back and tilts his head from side to side. Will looks at him sadly. He reaches out to pet his fur, feeling every single strand of hair collide with his skin. He’s one hundred times softer than he used to be. “I’m still me, Winnie.”

Will walks the dust pan full of glass into the kitchen, dumping the remains in the trash can. He comes back into the front room and climbs into bed. He brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his hands around his ankles.

“I’m still me,” He repeats, praying deep down in his soul that it’s true.

Will closes his eyes. He can heart each individual heartbeat of each dog in his home. While they smell good, nothing could compare to what he tasted this morning. His chest begins to burn with the deep realization of what he did. I killed someone.

Stop. Hannibal interrupts his guilt. You rid the world of vermin. There is no need for guilt… You are going to have to get used to this.

Will could be mad, and he wants to be, but something is tugging on his heartstrings.

You never judged me for killing. Why is it different for you? Hannibal nudges gently.

Will sucks in a breath through his teeth. This is all I think about. I dig deep into the minds of the most sinister. My worst fear was becoming one of them.

You’re not like them. I know you. You would never harm an innocent.

Will doesn’t want to think about this anymore and he doesn’t want Hannibal in his head. But he can’t stop. He can’t stop letting him in, listening to his words. That beautiful accent. The way his lips pout. His cheekbones. God, his smell; woodsy with notes of amber and chamomile. Will stops; knowing full well Hannibal is listening to him. He changes the subject.

I’m sorry I totaled your car. Will grumbles.

Please, do not worry for a second about that car. It held no sentimental value. I’m picking up my new one in the morning.

Will immediately wants to come with him. He thinks they could have a nice day out, spending the day downtown in the shoppes. Fuck! Will snarls, burying his head between his legs, tangling his hands in his hair. This is the most confused he’s ever felt in his life. What he wants is to stay mad at Hannibal. He wants to pin him to the ground and land blow after blow to his face. But there’s a compulsion - he needs him, he wants him. It’s the bond. And it’s driving him insane.

I hate you. Will tells him. I really hate you.

I know.

A thick silence fills the air. A minute or so passes before Hannibal chimes in again.

I love you.

Hannibal’s words echo in Will’s mind. Will’s face twists and scrunches up as he begins to cry. He shakes, letting out a pain choked up sob as his hands cover his face. He hates every single bit of this. He hates that now he’s going to live forever. He hates that he has to kill people to live. He hates that he’s bonded to Hannibal. And he hates Hannibal. He hates him so much.

But worst of all, he hates how much, how undeniably, how explicitly, he loves Hannibal.

Chapter Text

Two weeks later. December 22nd, 2014.

Will hasn’t been to work since before the change. He’s been held up in his house, staying far away from as many people as possible, getting ridiculously drunk nearly every night. He hasn’t seen Jack, he hasn’t seen Alana, and he sure as hell hasn’t seen Hannibal. Calling in sick, saying he had to take the dogs to the vet for check ups, telling Jack and Alana he was out of town to see a family member; every lie you could think of. Jack had enough.

Will sits on the edge of his bed as Jack sits on the chair in front of him, a folded paper in his hand. Will has his arms crossed against his chest, eyes glued to the floor. He looks at his feet, clothed in cashmere socks, he wiggles his toes, distracting himself from Jack’s gaze and heartbeat throbbing in his head.

“I’m worried about you,” Jack says softly. He tilts his head, watching Will actively avoid eye contact, scratching the back of his neck. Jack sighs. “I understand if you need a break. I’ve pushed you too far before and I won’t do it again. But…” He lingers. He unfolds the paper and holds it out to Will. “I talked to our team. We need you to see Hannibal for at least three sessions before you come back to work. We will decide if need more, with your input, of course. I will need him to sign this paper, confirming you saw him.”

Will looks up, eyebrows stitched together. He meets Jack’s eyes and then glances at the paper. Jack nudges again, pushing the paper toward Will. Will almost doesn’t want to touch him, afraid he may lose control and do something he’ll regret. He reaches out, pinching the edge of the paper, and snatching it quickly. Will looks at the document, scanning it over. No one at the FBI knows Will and Hannibal are seeing each other. If they did, this would be inappropriate. Will could tell Jack now to get out of seeing Hannibal but, for some strange reason, he doesn’t.

Will folds the paper in three horizontal sections. “Fine.”

-

Hannibal opens the door to his office, watching as Will turns around to face him. Will nearly stumbles at the sight of him. Hannibal is draped in cream colored button up, encased in a navy blue vest and intricate floral tie, matching navy slacks, and black leather loafers. Will is more than partial to Hannibal in blues. He clenches his jaw, eyebrows pinched. Hannibal is looking at him, waiting.

“Are you going to come in or are you just going to stand there?” Hannibal questions, amused, knowing full well he picked the right outfit for the day.

Will walks past him, into the office, turning his head to look at him. “If I had it my way, I never would have come.”

Hannibal knows he’s still angry. He’s been tuning into his thoughts every now and then, listening to just how mad and deeply confused Will is. Part of him feels bad about it; he wishes he could help. He could easily compel him and take away his anger but that goes against ever fiber of who he is. All he wants is Will to accept himself, to embrace who he is now. He can’t deny it hurts for Will to be so angry with him. He saved his life after all. He doesn’t think he’s owed anything necessarily. He just wishes things were different, better.

“You look well,” Hannibal tells him, eyes landing on Will’s ass. He blinks, tearing away the thought, afraid Will hears him. He continues, “Have you been feeding?” He already knows the answer.

Will walks to the front of Hannibal’s desk, sliding around charcoal drawings of what is so blatantly obvious, depictions of Hannibal and himself. He softens at the sight of them. Will looks at Hannibal who’s standing behind the desk. “Uh, yeah. Two people this week…” Will says, still focused on the detailed drawings. “One drunk driver who killed a family. One burglar who shot a gas station clerk.”

“You enjoy my illustrations?” Hannibal chimes in, breaking Will out of his focus. Hannibal walks over to stand next to Will. The two reach for the same drawing at the same moment, hands brushing together. The instant it happens, a bolt of electricity jolts up both of their spines, bringing goosebumps to the surface of their skin. They turn to look at each other.

Will’s eyes are wide, pulpy, twinkling in the dim light of the room. They’re blue again. The change is starting to settle. Hannibal wants to touch him again. He doesn’t know if he should. But Will looks like a touch starved, hungry, little puppy dog. Hannibal brings his hand up toward Will’s face. He comes to his cheek, pausing, hesitant. Will closes his eyes, ever so slightly moving his head toward Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal caresses him, wiping across his cheekbone. The two gasp, nearly softly moaning in unison, just by the mere touch. Like fireworks; bright, colorful sparks emitting between the two of them, electrifying their flesh.

Will forgets his anger for a moment. He melts like putty into Hannibal’s touch. He leans into it, sighing gently. His chest feels tight, aching and begging for more. Will opens his eyes, meeting Hannibal’s amber irises. They inch closer together, attracted like magnets. The air is thick with a pulpable tension.

Will smacks Hannibal’s hand off his face. He lurches forward, zapping and slamming Hannibal into the wall. He has Hannibal by the tie. He inhales sharply before crashing his lips into Hannibal’s. Simply touching him was enough to create a violent physical reaction. Kissing him? He felt like he jumped into a pool of ice that had somehow been lit on fire. Every nerve ending in his body was reacting, signaling to him to continue. Hannibal’s hands cup his face, returning the kiss with ferocity. Their tongues dance together, licking and exploring, fire brimming at the edge of their lips. Will’s free hand makes it’s way to Hannibal’s bulge, palming him.

Hannibal pulls away, searching Will’s eyes. “Only if you want to.”

Will responds by undoing Hannibal’s tie, ripping it off his shirt and throwing it to the floor. He loathes how badly he wants to do this. He’s livid that he can’t control himself. But he can’t help but to lean in and kiss him again and again and again.

-

A violent thunderstorm blazes outside. The weather did not call for this today. It’s the dead of winter, they haven’t had a thunderstorm in months. The two men know why.

Hannibal watches intently as Will slowly rolls his hips, up and down, back and forth. With each movement of his hips, thunder booms in the sky. A soft moan is followed by the strike of lightning. Hannibal’s underneath him, sitting up on his elbows, hands wrapped around Will’s wrists. Will is sitting on Hannibal’s cock, his back facing him. Hannibal wanted Will to have full control over what they were doing, so he let him take the reigns. He knows how badly Will hates him and this could very easily come across as him taking advantage of him, taking advantage of the bond. Which is very clearly controlling the two of them.

Will arches his back, throwing his head back and sighing loudly with pleasure. Like the crack of a whip, fire bursts in the sky. His mind is telling him to stop, to run away, and leave Hannibal completely alone. But his heart and his body move against him like it’s the only thing he’s ever prayed for. Thunder shakes the house as Will steadily rocks his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside him over and over.

Hannibal can’t help himself. He just can’t. He sits up, adjusting himself. Will falls forward but Hannibal places his hand on his chest, keeping him up. Hannibal moves his hips up, slow and easy, matching Will’s relaxed pace. His left hand plays with Will’s nipple and his right hand smooths over Will’s thick, hairy thigh, nails grazing over his skin. Hannibal kisses Will’s shoulder, shooting sparks between them. The sky rumbles, rain beating on the roof of Hannibal’s home.

This is the first time Will has had sex since the change. He was not planning on this happening. He didn’t even want to come to Hannibal’s for a session. He was not expecting this. He wonders if this is all the bond, taking him over and making him make decisions he may regret. Right now, he can’t care too much. The way Hannibal is running his hands all over his body is driving him mad. Will’s thighs tremble and shake with every touch from Hannibal’s palms.

Will falls back against Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal presses his cool lips to the crook of Will’s neck, drawing out a sweet moan. Will reaches up, hooking his arm around Hannibal’s head, placing his fingers in his hair. He turns his head, facing Hannibal. Hannibal’s lips are inches away from his. He breaks the space, moving his lips against Hannibal’s. A lightning strike less than a mile away breaks through the sky but the two men pay it no mind.

Hannibal wraps a hand around Will’s neck, gently pulling out of the kiss. “Good boy,” He whispers in Will’s ear, breath tickling his skin. “Good baby.” He says, drawing out the last word.

Will groans, utterly destroyed by the softness of Hannibal’s voice. He leans in to kiss him again. He stills his movements for a moment. His mind goes blank. A beat of silence occurs.

Take me.

Hannibal is quick to obey. He picks Will up by his hips, moving him as if he’s lighter than a feather. He places Will on top of his comforter, head resting on his luxury pillows. He puts himself in between Will’s legs, pushing himself inside him again, laying down, flush against Will’s chest. Hannibal hooks both arms under each of Will’s knees, bringing his legs up, folding him up. He nudges his nose against Will, rocking in and out him slowly, kissing just above his upper lip.

Will wraps his legs around Hannibal’s waist. He holds onto his neck, watching his focused eyes with intent. They’ve never been together like this. Painstakingly slow, being obnoxiously handsy with one another, kissing the entire time. This is the first time they are truly making love. Will pulls him in, whimpering as their lips touch again.

My beloved. Bewitching. Perfect in every sense of the word.

Hannibal’s thoughts ring in Will’s mind. Hannibal reaches under him, somehow pulling him even closer, wrapping his arm around Will’s waist. Will has completely, inevitably melted in his touch, like snowfall in the night being met by the morning’s bright sun.

A feverish want, a desire connected between their touch. The push and pull of two bodies, desperate and needing. Pupils dilated, unwavering eye contact. Charged, pulsating movement enveloping one another, itching to be noticed, seen, felt. A palpable sense of intimacy, interconnected souls dancing in time together. A ceaseless, never ending devotion. Inseparable, blurring the lines between self destruction and what may be the greatest emotion ever felt. Love.

A twinge of forgiveness pings at Will’s heart.

Will reaches down to stroke himself, getting painfully close. He knows Hannibal’s with him, watching as his hips pick up the pace. Will tangles his hand in Hannibal’s hair, kissing him deeper. He can feel the whine escape his lips as he comes, writhing underneath Hannibal. Thunder reverberates against the windows. Hannibal buries his face in Will’s neck, letting out a long, deep groan as he comes inside him, hips twitching. A bright white hit of lightning strikes a transformer across the street, piercing their eardrums and shaking the bed. The lights flicker and shut off. Within seconds, Hannibal’s generator kicks on.

The two men look in horror at the windows. They meet each others gaze again.

“We… We did that,” Will laughs awkwardly, looking up at Hannibal.

“I told you things were going to get intense,” Hannibal smirks. He leans in and pecks Will’s cheek, burning his skin. Hannibal lingers, getting lost in Will’s steel blue eyes.

Will smiles uncomfortably. “You can pull out now.”

“Sorry,” Hannibal snaps back into reality. He pulls out slowly, falling to his side of the bed. “Oh!” He speeds away to the bathroom for a few seconds, coming back with a warm, slightly damp rag. He reaches over to Will, who stops him in an instant.

Will grabs the rag from Hannibal’s hand and cleans himself off. “I got it,” He grumbles.

“You’re still mad at me after what we just did?” Hannibal asks, amused at the ever contradictory man next to him.

“I don’t know what I am,” Will snaps. “You did your best to make me utterly confused with who I am, what I want. I hate you and I just had the best sex of my life with you,” He watches as Hannibal just laughs to himself. Will sits up on his knees. “You can’t even get mad at me! I am literally telling you I hate your guts, I want to pin you to the ground and hit you over and over, and you just sit there laughing!”

Hannibal pauses. He sits back, face falling. “You want me to get mad at you?”

“Yes,” Will pleads, sitting back down, leaning against the wall. “Any normal person would be upset with someone telling them they hate them. Why can’t you just hate me back?!” His voice is loud, bouncing off the walls of the room before he gets quiet, shrinking himself. “This would be so much easier if you hated me..”

Hannibal turns his head, looking Will up and down. As if I could hate you. There is nothing you could ever do that would turn me away. You have stolen me, body and soul. In anytime timeline, I have always belonged to you. I have roamed this earth, longer than I should have, alone and desperate. I ached for you before I ever knew you.

Will’s mouth falls open. He stares at Hannibal who’s now looking away. His chest tightens. “Look at me,” He demands, firm yet soft. “Talk to me. Out loud.” Hannibal turns his head, looking at the comforter before bringing his eyes to Will’s. Hannibal parts his lips.

“You think I wanted to change you without you asking?” Hannibal places his hand on top of Will’s. “I didn’t know what else to do. I could see you, hear you dying. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” He continues. “I carried you all the way to my house. I stitched you up, bathed you, dressed you. It was a moment of selfishness… You would have been okay leaving me alone?”

Will hadn’t thought about that. Too wrapped up in his own dealings with the change, he hadn’t thought of Hannibal’s perspective. “I…No,” Will admits.

Hannibal turns to him. “Why were you so willing to die?”

Will swallows, afraid of this question ever coming up and now the moment is here. “I am evil.” He feels a lump in his throat form, eyes tearing up.

Hannibal looks at him, puzzled.

“I..I just…” What will this hurt - telling the truth? Will’s voice trembles. “My whole life…I’ve had thoughts of killing people. Disgusting, vile, violent thoughts of bringing someone to the edge of existence with my bare hands. I’ve…always wanted to take a life. To feel someone’s heartbeat escape through my fingertips. I’ve committed my life’s work to my fantasies,” Will tells him. “And I’ve hated myself every day of my life for it. I could cling to the good parts of me; the parts that stayed good, the parts of me that couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt anyone. But I was exhausted. This is all I’ve done, all I’ve thought about for the majority of my life. Slipping away…just felt easier,” Will pauses, a thought creeping in his mind. “One could argue my own selfishness for giving up… I hadn’t thought about that.”

“The facade is down. You can be who you were meant to be. Unabashed,” Hannibal lets it sit silent for a moment. “You do realize what I am, right? I killed hundreds, if not thousands, before you were born. even as a human, I was blood thirsty. Why is it okay for me and not for you?”

“Well, I love you,” Will says, matter of fact, the words falling out of his mouth without a second thought. He feels heat creeping up on his chest, embarrassed. He looks away. “I don’t love myself.”

“Will,” Hannibal swoons, picking up Will’s hands and bringing them to his lips. “What is there not to love? You’re brilliantly intelligent,” He kisses Will’s hand. “Handsome,” Another kiss. “Twitchy. Neurotic,” Will frowns, glaring at him. “Kind to animals, open-minded, accepting, empathetic, fiercely brave, loyal.”

Will is malleable in Hannibal’s hands, he completely softens at his touch. This is the man he knows and loves. He realizes he’s created this version of Hannibal in his head - one that couldn’t care less about his wants and needs. Hannibal has never acted that way. It’s been Hannibal’s main goal throughout their relationship to give Will exactly what he wants. And he saved his life, for Pete’s sake.

“Thank you,” Will whispers, voice gentle. “I never thanked you for saving my life.”

Hannibal looks at him, hope twinkling in his eyes. “Anyone with a heart would have done the same.”

Will can feel himself giving in to his feelings for Hannibal. He reaches up, scooting closer, and he grabs Hannibal’s chin. Hannibal closes his eyes, embracing the touch. Will leans in, leaving the softest, feathery kiss on his lips. “I forgive you, Hannibal.” Hannibal inhales sharply, the meaning of Will’s words hitting him smack dab in the middle of his chest. He sighs from relief and joy.

Hannibal’s eyes flutter open. He smiles tenderly. He crawls over to Will, maneuvering himself so he’s leaned up against Will’s chest. “I love you, Will Graham. Nothing could ever change that.” He breaks off. “Would you like to spend Christmas with me?”

“I’d love to.”

-

December 25th, 2014.

Hannibal bends down, throwing another log into his fireplace. He takes the iron poker and pushes it in further, listening to it as it cracks and pops. He watches the embers float up through the chimney. The living room is lit dimly, the glow of the fireplace and Christmas tree being the only things to light up the living room. He hears the gentle ping of his harpsichord as Will sits on the bench, attempting to remember Jingle Bells. His brows are furrowed, tongue sticking out in focus, as he gently taps the keys, repeatedly hitting the wrong note. Hannibal watches in complete adoration.

“Damn it,” Will grunts, pressing a bunch of keys at the same time then dropping his hands, giving up.

Hannibal walks up behind him, leaning down and pressing his lips to Will’s scruffy jaw. “Come,” He murmurs. “There’s still a few more presents.” He extends his hand to Will, who takes it, and lets Hannibal help him up.

Will sits down on the couch, crossing his legs. He’s in a black, wool beanie, which are pushing his curls down across his forehead. He’s wearing an expensive, cream colored wool sweater that Hannibal had gotten him for Christmas. It was the first present he got this morning and he was itching to put it on. Paired with black sweatpants and his favorite grey cashmere socks.

Hannibal had already gifted him a new fishing pole and a brand new tackle box. Two things Will has been wanting for a while but too stubborn to buy himself. He appreciates that Hannibal listens to what he truly wants and doesn’t go overboard with fancy things he wouldn’t care about. That was the hard part for Will. What do you give a man who’s been alive for over a century and a half and is a multimillionaire?

“It’s the one in the plaid wrapping,” Will says, being a smart ass, as Hannibal grabs the last present from under the tree. Hannibal takes the package and takes it with him as he sits on the couch, next to Will.

Hannibal tears into the gift gently, peeling back the wrapping paper. He reveals a thick picture book. “It’s a coffee table book full of Italian Renaissance paintings. It goes into the history of each painting, who drew them, what they used, their inspiration,” Will immediately gets embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s shit. You’re hard to buy for.”

Hannibal opens the book, fingers scanning over the pages. “Will, this is perfect. I love it,” Hannibal smiles at him warmly. “This is my favorite time period. You know how much I love these works. It’s thoughtful.” He leans over and kisses Will’s lips quickly. “I got you one more thing.”

“There’s nothing left under the tree?” Will asked, befuddled.

Hannibal zips to the tree, pulling out something from within its branches. He walks over to Will, holding the item behind his back. Hannibal stands in front of him, eyes bright and expression soft. He kneels down in front of him and brings out a small, square, dark blue, velvet box.

Will’s eyes go wide.

“I know it’s fast. I know we’ve only been together a little over two months. I know I am pushing it,” Hannibal opens the box, revealing a detailed rhodium ring. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Will Graham. You’ve restarted my heart, set fire to my soul. You accept all of me, the good, the bad, the ugly; with open, welcoming arms. Soulmate, twin flame… Those words don’t begin to describe who you are to me. It would be the greatest honor of my life for you to be my husband.”

Will stares.

Silence.

“The offer stands. Now or whenever you’re ready.”

“Hannibal…”

“I know, I know…” Hannibal stands up quickly, closing the box. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

Will jumps up. He wraps his arms around Hannibal’s neck and pulls him in for a deep, slow kiss. Hannibal embraces him, pulling him in closer by his waist. Will opens his mouth, trying to get as much of Hannibal as he can. He fists Hannibal’s hair, tugging on him, licking into his mouth. He pulls away tentatively, still pecking his lips. He looks in Hannibal’s eyes that have turned dark with want.

“I’m not ready yet,” Will whispers, his heart aching at his truth. “It’s definitely not a no. I just need time.”

“Whenever you want,” Hannibal hums. “Just say the word.”

Will picks up Hannibal’s hand that is still holding the ring box. He opens it. “It’s beautiful,” He smiles wide. “I always wanted to get married,” He peers at the ring, focusing on its intricate details. It’s a thick black band with microscopic specs of ruby scattered throughout. “Thank you,” He says, fiercely genuine.

Hannibal places the ring box in his pocket. He wraps an arm around around Will’s waist, taking the other and holding it out in the air. “Dance with me.”

Will takes his hand. “There’s no music.”

In a flash, Hannibal zips away to his record player, turns it on and reappears in front of Will, still frozen in the exact same position he left him in. What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? by Ella Fitzgerald echoes through the room.

Hannibal pulls Will in, swaying back and forth, steadily. Will rests his head on Hannibal’s chest. He opens up his hand, slipping his fingers through Hannibal’s, locking their hands together. He closes his eyes, blissful and calm. “Something’s been on my mind,” Hannibal interrupts.

“What is it?”

“You said it was okay for me to kill people.. because you love me,” Hannibal starts. “How did it begin? How did the love start? Where did it come from?”

Will stands up straight, watching Hannibal’s curious expression. “The acceptance of authenticity,” Will tells him. “You shared your darkest side with me. I figured if I could embrace your nature… maybe I could accept my own. I saw myself in you. I saw the potential of self love in your presence,” Will continues. “And I thought, if you could share that with me and I offered support… I could show myself to you and you would reciprocate.”

“The need to be seen. Understood. Loved. By yourself and by me,” Hannibal reiterates. “You are exquisite. I cherish every moment with you. I understand you. And I love every piece of you.”

“I love you too,” Will sighs, falling onto Hannibal’s chest once more. Hannibal nudges his head against Will’s. The music in the background begins to fade, leaving the two men moving back and forth, listening to the sound of the fire. Snow floats down outside, sticking to the ground. Hannibal hums, notes caressing Will’s ears. All feels right on their first Christmas together.