Work Text:
The floor was filled with socialites and doctors, all of them dressed in their finest attire, holding the tiniest food on sticks. Chatter and music echoed through the walls of the house as guests wandered freely, always seeking out another dish to taste or person to converse with. Jimmy, on the other hand, was standing in a corner (as he had been for the past hour or so) with a small glass of something in his hand. He hadn’t paid much attention when he poured it, not that he would have remembered it anyway.
The fancy wines. The foods with names that took too much effort to pronounce. It was all a bit much, wasn’t it? Then again, everything about Hannibal was a bit much, so this was to be expected. Of course, he would insist on microscopic portion sizes. Of course, he would insist on playing Mozart as if this were some tacky period piece. It was all too predictable, which is why Jimmy was nowhere near as angry with Hannibal as much as he was angry at Brian. Brian, who didn't even like the guy but accepted the invite anyway because he was too scared to decline.
On second thought, it wasn't even surprising that Brian was a no-show. That was exactly who he was as a person.
As Jimmy scanned the room once again, he made eye contact with Hannibal. He was met with a smile, then movement. This left Jimmy with two options: stay in the same sport and suck up talking to Hannibal, or move quickly and get lost in the crowd as much as he could to avoid talking with Hannibal.
Fuck it. He had never been much of a social niceties guy anyway.
Jimmy made his way through the crowd, zig-zagging in and out of groups of people. As he brushed past the women in nice dresses and men in well-tailored suits, he could make out bits and pieces of conversation. It was the normal stuff. The boring stuff. Taxes and weddings. Divorces and kids. Funerals. Everything was treated with a Hallmark type of reverence, with hushed voices and encouraging words. It was boring. Actually, it was beyond boring. It was so incredibly sanitized that if Jimmy had to spend one more second listening to it he would probably lose his mind.
"Is it too late to say we should have listened to Will about the whole cannibal thing? I mean, come on, this is weird, right?
Jimmy almost let out an audible sigh of relief upon hearing Brian's voice. It was entirely too smug given he had left Jimmy hanging for about an hour, but when Jimmy felt a tug at his arm he had no objections as he followed Brian from the living room into the foyer.
"I'm still angry at you," Jimmy mumbled, fixing the sleeve of his suit with his free hand when he was sure nobody but Brian would hear. Not that it mattered much to him.
"You know you can thank me, right?" Brian said, moving to sit on a couch that was placed by the door. It was always the weird ones that were into avant-garde interior decor. "Thank you, Brian. I needed backup there, Brian."
Jimmy sat down on the chair opposite Brian, putting his glass down, then continuing to pick at his sleeves. "I wouldn't have needed backup if you weren't late."
"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly realize this was a whole fancy tie situation so," Brian sighed, pulling off his tie. "Walmart run. Catch."
Jimmy caught the tie in his hands, noticing the tag that was still on as he looked at the fabric. "5.99? Really?"
"Okay. You know what? I didn't come here for fashion school."
"I'm just saying-"
"This is the worst. This is absolutely the worst. This is what I get for rescuing you?"
"Well, you wouldn't have needed to if you were here on time," Jimmy commented. "And I would hardly call that rescuing. That was assault and battery."
"Okay, dude, you were about 3 seconds away from a stroke."
"I'm hardly the one that needs to be worrying about my brain failing me Mr. Forgot the eighth digit of pi."
"Oh, so we're back on that again."
"What did I say to you? The answer is nine. Did you listen? No. Because you went to a better school so obviously-"
"We lost a 50 dollar gift card to Red Lobster. You don't even like Red Lobster!"
Jimmy blanked, mostly because Brian was absolutely right. Not that he would admit it. No. This? This was war. "Well, maybe I had a hot date."
"Yeah, can you speed that process up a bit? Or just do anything to get away from me?"
"And I'm the mean one?"
"Hey, Jim. Uh. Just checking. How many times have you gotten in trouble because of your jokes again?"
"It's not my fault that nobody has a sense of humor anymore."
"Right. Right. That's what we're calling it." A smile. It was true in a way. In their morbid way. "I'll just let Hannibal cannibalize you next time."
"You know, it is a bit odd how Hannibal does rhyme with cannibal."
A pause.
"Probably coincidence. I almost feel sorry for the guy," Brian said. "I mean, it's basically your parents ensuring that you'll be bullied from birth."
"Oh, definitely," Jimmy agreed. "Begging to be involved in a murder case if you ask me."
"Right?"
Jimmy and Brian smiled at each other from their parallel seats. From their little spot in the foyer, they could almost forget they were at Hannibal's. Almost. Not quite. There was still the classical music-- some folksy waltz or something-- that fluttered through the air. There was still the presence of other people, people who would never truly get anything happening in Brian and Jimmy's world. There was still something so artificial about it all. A dull party with dull people. What was there to do about that?
"It would be a shame if we brought some life to the party," Jimmy commented.
Brian shook his head. "You terrify me. What are you suggesting?"
"Nothing! Nothing." Okay. Something. "I just noticed Hannibal leaves a lot of very expensive champagne lying around."
"Okay. Let's get this straight. You're suggesting that we not only ruin Hannibal's party but steal his fancy champagne too?"
"I'm not suggesting anything," Jimmy replied. "I am stating for a fact that I am going to steal Hannibal's champagne."
"Holy shit."
"Oh, so don't join then. When did you develop morals?"
"It's not a moral thing."
"Wuss."
"I would much rather not have Carlisle Cullen telling Jack that we robbed him."
"We're not robbing. We're appreciative party guests. We just thought the champagne was a parting gift," Jimmy started, pretending to be oblivious to the disapproving look on Brian's face. At a first glance, most people understandably assumed Brian to be the more reckless of the two, this assumption just happened to be deeply misled. Brian, despite his arrogance, could be entirely too rigid about doing things the right way. He needed a bad influence sometimes, and if nobody else would do it? Well, Jimmy just had to do it all by himself. "Do you have a Mont Blanc pen?"
"A 300 dollar pen?"
"Yes."
"Who the fuck owns a 300 dollar pen? Actually, don't answer that!" Brian buried his face in his hands. "You're going to get us killed." An exaggeration. "You are going to get us killed in Hannibal Lecter's house."
Jimmy considered the odds in his head for a second. Not the odds of getting caught. (He wasn't at all scared of European Liberace). Instead, Jimmy was focusing on the odds of getting Brian to agree. (It wasn't looking great.) He had to find something that was hard for even Brian to resist.
Hard. That was it.
"You're not telling me your favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard and you're scared of a little heist," Jimmy said, knowing the words settled into the back of Brian's skull upon seeing him cringe. He was right. Brian hated it. "Come on. I dare you."
"Yup. That's it. That is the last time I'm inviting you to movie night," Brian grumbled as he got out of the chair. Jimmy followed him up. "I hate you, you do get that?
"I know." Brian didn't mean it. Mostly. "You go get the pen. I'll go get the champagne. We rendezvous here in 15 minutes."
"And in the event you get caught?"
"Get out while you still can."
"Great," Brian replied, stretching out his arms as he spoke. He was great at many things. At being subtle? Not quite. "That's all I needed to hear."
"And for the love of God get a drink or something. At least make it seem like you've been drinking and not just wandering around."
"Shittiest dinner party I've been to." Brian started. "See you in 15?"
"I'll be here."
And so their heist had begun. Jimmy slipped back into the living room and took his place in the same corner as before. His eyes scanned the room, looking past the garish decor and bustling crowd. When he was unable to find Hannibal's face among the crowd, he exhaled in relief. It was a good sign. Hannibal had moved on after their brief encounter, which only made the next steps easier. Jimmy moved through the crowd, stepping around the businessmen making deals and pushing through gossiping couples until he arrived at a table with green-tinted bottles.
The room buzzed with energy, maybe with less energy than before Jimmy had made his great escape, but it provided him with enough chaos to take his time. As the people around him continued to move, Jimmy took his time inspecting the bottles on the table. He hadn't been lying when he said that Hannibal had stocked up on the expensive champagne. The table was filled with an array of wines, none of them exactly on the cheap end. It was almost absurd that he would go to such lengths for a dinner party, especially considering he didn't seem particularly close with many of the guests, but maybe anything seemed normal with that much money. Either way, it was unlikely that a missing bottle of champagne would be the first thing to catch his eye.
Jimmy picked up an unopened bottle of 2006 Clos Lanson from the middle of the table. It was mid-range enough for it to not be much of a deal when it went missing, but also much nicer than anything Brian or Jimmy would have bought on their own. After repositioning a few of the remaining bottles to close the gap, Jimmy took off through the crowd once again, disappearing into the people until he emerged from the room victorious.
Jimmy was the first one back to the foyer. Brian arrived only a minute or two later, his new pen in hand. They offered each other a smile as Brian made his way into the front room. A congratulations. For all of their scheming, they had been greatly rewarded
"It suits you," Jimmy said, in regards to the pen.
"I can feel the power going to my head, actually," Brian replied, shaking his head. "Look at what you've done. You've made a monster."
"Oh, believe me, that monster was already there long before I-"
"Jimmy, Brian, leaving so soon?"
History was filled with many moments when people knew they were fucked. For Caesar, it was probably when he felt that first stab wound. For Robespierre, it had been the guillotine. For Jimmy and Brian? Well, there wasn't exactly anything worse than attempting to rob a co-worker only to get stopped about 3 feet away from escape. The fact that they worked with homicide only increased the totally fucked moment by about ten, twenty-fold.
Naturally, when they heard Hannibal's voice, Brian and Jimmy did the first thing that any reasonable person could possibly think to do: hide the evidence behind their backs. It wasn't a good technique by any means, but out of sight out of mind, right? Not really judging by the look of confusion on Hannibal's face.
Yeah. They were fucked.
Now, there were some ways to avoid being totally fucked, not that it was an exact science. An individual had to play to their own skillset. For some, this meant conflict mediation. For others still, this meant embracing the realities of a physical fight. Neither Brian nor Jimmy were particularly prepared for either of these scenarios, so they did what they did best: improv comedy.
"Brian forgot our anniversary. The bastard."
"Okay. Forgot is the wrong word," Brian started, turning to Hannibal. "I've been busy."
"So a corpse is more valuable to you than our relationship is what you're saying?"
Back to Jimmy. Deadpan."Show me where I said that."
"Just now."
"I- Okay. You know what? This is why I don't go places with you anymore!"
Offense. "Why? Because I call you on your-"
"Because you put words in my mouth. Also, just so we're clear, the corpse is my mother!"
"You never told me that!" Jimmy shot a glare at Brian. Why didn't you tell me that?"
"Because I didn't want you to- You know what? Let's just save this for home."
"Bri, I didn't know."
"No. Of course, you didn't because all you care about is your motives. Isn't that right?"
"Well, last I checked you're the one that cheated on me with Freddie Lounds," Jimmy mumbled.
"Enough," Brian sighed, turning to look at Jimmy. "We'll just solve this at home, okay?"
"Okay," Jimmy replied, looking at Brian.
Then, in-sync, Brian and Jimmy turned to look at Hannibal who only stared at them. His European face had always been unreadable, even more so when Brian and Jimmy had to decide if they were free to go or if they had to scatter like they were in some really fucked up round of Jumanji. Eventually, the look on Hannibal's face became clearer. Pity, maybe, with some genuine sadness thrown in the mix. He seemed to look beyond the champagne bottle and stolen pen and into their hearts instead. It was weird. Bad weird. Definitely not an experience they would tell Jack about.
"Well then, it would be wrong of me to keep you from solving your domestic issues," Hannibal started with a nod. "It feels terribly rude that I don't offer to help, however, I figure now may not be the best time. If you two desire, I could schedule you an appointment for tomorrow evening? We could dine after if time permits."
Jimmy looked at Brian. Brian looked at Jimmy. They both looked back at Hannibal. With a smile, Jimmy said. "I think we'll be okay."
"Alright, well if you need anything at all-"
"We'll be sure to call you," Brian stated, leaning into Jimmy.
Hannibal looked over the pair for a second, until, without further prompting, he turned away and walked back into the living room. This left Brian and Jimmy with a moment to absorb everything that had just happened.
"We should go before he realizes we're not actually a couple, right?" Brian asked, his voice hushed.
"Oh. Absolutely. Way ahead of you," Jimmy replied. He opened the door, gesturing for Brian to walk through. "After you?"
"And Hannibal thought we needed couples counseling," Brian snorted as we walked through the door. Jimmy followed not far behind. They continued down the walkway, leaving the chaos of the party behind, and embracing their heist victory with matching smiles.
The night was marked by tripping down sidewalks and a popped cork. Street lamps hung low in the night, reflecting in the shallow puddles along the way like stars that had been pulled from the sky just for them. Brian and Jimmy, who had given up on cups or glasses, were held up by laughter and each other. It was their own little universe, their own space in the world. Jokes became gravity, the glow of a street lamp could hold all the stories of the stars, and in the same way that planets orbited the sun, Brian and Jimmy orbited each other.
They trusted in each other as churchgoers trusted in God, maybe a bit more. Maybe Jimmy and Brian could turn humor into their religion, making scriptures out of set-ups and punchlines.
"Okay. So. Party." Brian started. His voice was louder than usual, if only slightly, and he over-enunciated when he spoke. He passed the champagne bottle to Jimmy. "Sex thing or no?"
Jimmy took a drink from the bottle. "Obviously."
"Really?"
"And what other reason did he have to throw a party like that?"
"No. Dude. Look. I just think the ugly to hot ratio was-"
"He had animal horns hanging around like it was nobody's business! You think he draws the line at a ratio?"
"I didn't realize we were taking PETA into consideration!" Brian exclaimed, laughing. It was nice to laugh. It made everything feel more grounded, even if that wasn't exactly the case. "He's a freak."
"Remember when the FBI had standards? Wait, nevermind, you obviously don't or you wouldn't have gotten hired."
"I'm sorry. What?"
"What?"
"I wouldn't have gotten hired?"
"I never said that," Jimmy defended, despite clearly having said it seconds before. "Show me where I said that."
"Unbelievable! Unbelievable. You know what?"
Brian lightly shoved Jimmy. Jimmy shoved him back. The two stumbled down the block, jokingly pushing and pulling at each other until they were in an alleyway. Strings of curses and apologies were spilled, buried in between the snorted laughs and jokes. There were mumbles that only the two of them could hear and their hearts raced in time. Energy moved with the two of them seamlessly, picking up where breaths and whispers left off. It was an energy that only they could ever really understand. That's why everyone else had seemed so boring, right? They would never be able to keep up. They just didn't have the hearts for it.
Laughs became breathless as Brian leaned against the brick wall, Jimmy standing only inches away. Brian leaned in to kiss Jimmy, and laughter carried that too, echoing through their lungs and entire bodies as their lips met. It was gravitational, pulling them closer together.
It was also gravity that caused the bottle the break with a crash when Jimmy, unthinking, let go of it.
"Shit!" Brian laughed, jumping back. It wasn't his brightest idea. This became clear when a decently loud thud could be heard when his head made contact with the wall. Both Brian and Jimmy winced at the sound, Brian out of pain, and Jimmy because they should have seen that one coming. "Fuck. Ouch. Shit."
"Are you okay?" Jimmy asked, genuinely concerned. He moved to look at Brian's head as Brian moved away from the wall. No blood. That was good. Well, no, brain injuries of any sort were less than ideal given their jobs, but if there had to be one no blood was always better than blood. "You should sit down."
Brian shook his head, his eyes still shut as he winced. "Nope. Apartment's like two blocks away. Let's just-"
"Are you sure you'll be able to walk? You don't feel dizzy."
"No more dizzy than I did before all of that," Brian replied, opening his eyes. "I can't believe you didn't put the 300 dollar champagne down."
"In my defense, I didn't expect to be wrestled into an alleyway," Jimmy argued. "At least we almost finished it."
"I can't do anything with you!"
"I think it's the other way around actually," Jimmy started, he smiled at Brian who shot back a matching smile. He was okay. "We'll put on the news in your apartment. Come on."
"The news on a Friday night? Really showing your age there, Jim."
"As if you don’t routinely watch reruns of The Twilight Zone."
"The Twilight Zone is a sci-fi staple!"
"The only staples you should be worrying about are the ones that might have to go into your head."
A pause.
"Fine. That was good. You suck for saying it, but it was good!"
Brian and Jimmy walked back to the main street, standing centimeters away from each other. When Jimmy walked too slowly or Brian walked too quickly their elbows would meet, but much of this was lost to conversation anyway. The old jokes that they ran through, the new ones that they formed about the party. It felt like no time at all had passed when they got into Brian's apartment, Brian making a beeline for the couch and Jimmy stopping to pour water for the two of them. They continued to laugh together when Jimmy took his place on the couch next to Brian, joking about murder on the news and elbowing each other in the ribs. It was lighter laughter now, more controlled laughter, but it was warm too.
The adrenaline wore off. Brian and Jimmy were left with a TV screen and each other.
Brian leaned in to kiss Jimmy again. This time it was calmer, most of the unmeasured champagne sloppiness faded. There was still the urge to laugh, but with them there always was and that could be okay. Laughter as love. Love as laughter. What was the difference when both feelings buzzed in your ribs and made your heart race? What was the difference when the rest of the universe could move so quickly, but everything else paused as though in wait for the perfect time to let a joke land? What was the difference when laughing into the kiss didn't feel wrong and just felt like that was how things always should be.
"We should wait until morning," Jimmy said as he pulled away.
"Is that a rejection wait until morning or an actual wait until morning?"
"It's actually you-hit-your-head-shut-up and also a we-should-get-some-rest wait until morning."
"I just wanted to know!"
"And I just gave you an answer!"
Brian gave Jimmy a look. They laughed again. It was all a little bit ridiculous, wasn't it? Not that ridiculousness was bad. Ridiculousness was good. Really good. Perfect for them.
"Do you think Hannibal knew?" Brian asked, a tired smile on his face.
"No. He was absolutely fooled by our amazing improv comedy."
"Yeah. Can we never do that again?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Great."
The room settled into silence. The evening had run its course. Brian got up from the couch, stretching into a yawn. Jimmy remained seated. Then, Brian looked at him funny.
"Are you staying?"
"I can walk home if you-"
"Jim. I'm not leaving you to walk home at half-past midnight," Brian started, he seemed completely serious. Well, he seemed serious until he didn't. "You never know what kind of fucked up attention seeking homoerotcially coded murderers could be on the loose."
"Are you saying I couldn't handle myself?"
"No. I'm telling you to stop being an idiot." There it was. There was Brian. "Stay?"
Brian smiled and Jimmy couldn't help but smile too. "Fine, but if we show up late to work it's your fault." A pause. "We're not telling Jack about this, are we?"
"Oh. No, obviously not. Too much paperwork."
"Good. Glad we're on the same page."
"Of course. Now can we go to bed before I inflict more potential brain damage on myself?"
"If you keep talking like that I promise you won't even need to be the one to do it."
"Ouch. That's cold, dude," Brian replied, though he didn't sound entirely shocked. Cold? Maybe. Entirely fair? Yeah. Besides, who would Jimmy and Brian be without their jokes? "Come on."
They went to bed with hearts full of laughter and light, falling together as though the carbon in their bodies had been born from similar stars. And as the sun rose the next morning, the Earth took a pause from orbiting the sun to orbit them instead.