Chapter Text
This was quite unexpected. Well, maybe the thought appeared in Hannibal’s mind once or twice but was immediately discarded since Will would never do anything like that. And yet he did. Hannibal felt proud.
From what he could recognize, he was in Will’s house, on the upper floor, judging by the faint sound of dogs moving under the floorboards. He never was in this room, though it certainly looked the part - the same bland decor and furniture that seemed to be bought at a garage sale. The floor was rugless, wooden, but he was laid on an arrangement of small mats and what seemed to be a bathroom rug. Cleaned, fortunately.
He tried moving his wrists but they were tightly restrained behind his back. Judging by the texture, Will used some kind of cable, in many layers. Good, he won’t be able to break it by force. They were tied in an X, so he couldn’t reach his thumbs to dislocate them and get free. Then, Hannibal tried moving his legs, but his ankles were similarily tied and, oh… also tied to the radiator’s pipe. Interesting choice.
“Hello, Hannibal.”
“Good Morning, Will,” Hannibal responded, before stretching his neck back to properly see him. “I see you have decided not to gag me.”
“I didn’t see the point,” Will said and Hannibal once again reveled in this beautiful mannerism to accentuate every last spoken word, “You won’t scream and I,” he sighed, “well, I was counting on us having a conversation.”
Hannibal smiled, feeling warmth spreading around his chest. From the very beginning, he loved their conversations, loved listening to Will’s voice, and maybe to play with his mind, he was good with that. Just a little bit.
“Not just one, I hope.” Lecter paused for a second. “Are you going to kill me, Will?”
“No.” A confident answer, quick but not too quick, eye-contact. Truth.
“Would you like to?” Will crossed his arms, swallowed and Hannibal couldn’t resist gazing at his neck, at the way his Adam’s apple moved through the beautiful column of this fair throat. He wanted to sink his teeth in it. But let’s play first. “Perhaps get some Babylonian retaliation. An eye for an eye and bite for every bite I took.”
“I’m not like you.” Will’s voice seemed strained. “You eat them because you treat people like animals. Lower forms of life. I’m not like that.”
“Then what would you do? Eat to honor them? Just like-”
“Garret Jacob Hobbs? Cheap,” Will finished, his jaw seemed tense, “I’m not going to eat you, Hannibal,” he exhaled shakily, then pulled up closer a chair, before sitting down, “I want to give you to the police.”
Hannibal turned himself to his back, positioning to better see his dearest friend.
“Judging by the situation I’m currently in, I’m guessing you haven’t called Jack yet.” Will agreed silently. He looked mentally exhausted. “Knowing your character, you will not torture me, you said you won’t kill me and you haven’t turned me in. I’m wondering about your intentions, Will, and emotions behind all of this. Is it affection?”
Hannibal’s mouth felt dry, he tried to discreetly lick his lips and found Will staring at them. Instead of responding, Graham licked his own, then got up and retrieved a water bottle made out of soft plastic from somewhere behind Hannibal’s head.
Will helped him sit up before checking the restraints. He stuck a finger between the cables and the soft skin of Hannibal’s wrist. They were perfectly tight, so he had to push it with some force, making them both grunt very quietly. Then he moved lower, grabbed the delicate fingers, and massaged them between his own, looking for discolorations and swelling. When finished, Will couldn’t bring himself to break contact, so one of his hands traveled along Hannibal’s arm to rest on his shoulder. Just in time to feel Lecter’s warm breath.
“Tell me when your shoulders start to hurt.”
He smiled in response, while Will opened the bottle and gently put it up to his lips, being very careful with not letting too much water pour in. They both felt the power here, not only in the way Will could drown him at any second but also in thoughtfulness. In taking care of him.
“Thank you, Will.”
Their faces were mere inches apart, both bodies emanating heat, feeling drawn to each other, like magnets, yet staying in their places. Will inhaled sharply, turned his head to the side, clearly wanting to say something but got interrupted. A firm knock on the front door echoed through the house. Graham stayed quiet but looked into Hannibal's eyes with a silent plea. Funny how in this situation, he was the one supposedly doing a favor.
Will closed the door behind himself which surprisingly made the room quite soundproof. At least from the inside. He smiled to himself, before raising his feet and slamming them down with a loud thump. When nothing happened after a few minutes, he did it again, this time against the radiator, which resulted in a beautiful long metal cling, going down the pipes.
The doors opened shortly after.
“I assumed you would behave yourself,” Will sighed heavily before returning to his chair, avoiding eye-contact. Hannibal inhaled discreetly.
“How is Alana?” he asked.
“Good.”
“What excuse have you come up with?”
“One of my dogs is making a mess upstairs.”
A straight-up electric current went up Hannibal’s spine and goosebumps appeared on his skin. Will noticed, understood what he just said, and immediately looked away. They were both unsure whether it made him uncomfortable or not. Lecter thought to himself that his reaction was lovely.
“Don’t you feel like talking? You said you wanted to have a conversation with me. That you were counting on it.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Nevertheless, Hannibal waited through the silence.
“Are you hungry?”
Again, funny how things came out. Starting with Hannibal’s eccentric dinners served to all of his friends and ending with Graham spoon-feeding him a simple porridge with way too much barley. But it was one of the best meals he ever had. He could eat this for the rest of his life if only each spoon would be delivered by Will’s shaky hands.
As Will covered him with a thick blanket and gently tucked before turning the radiator slightly up, Hannibal wondered how much time will pass until they’ll have the promised conversation. He had a strong feeling that after having it, it will all end.
“Have a good night, Hannibal.” He wasn’t facing him anymore but felt fingers combing through his hair, moving, so it wouldn’t fall into his eyes. The slight touch left a tingling feeling on his skin.
“Good night, Will.”