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A soft yet firm hand rested on the small of Will’s back as another held his own whilst he and another swayed. Cricket’s chirped under the full moon, singing their own song aside from the soft trails of audio that could barely be heard from the outdoors. Releasing a soft breath through his nose, Will closed his eyes, dark eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he laid his head against a bloody shoulder. Sanguine fluid slowly dried in the brunette’s curly hair, hardening the strands of hair as they glued together.
A feathery kiss skimmed his forehead, a welcomed action from his lover. “My darling Will, you’ve never looked so beautiful,” he praised, the Lithuanian accent bringing a flutter in the empath’s stomach.
“You’re mine...and we belong together…”
Stubble scratched against the older man’s sweater as he brought his chin up, gazing at the eccentric man doting on him. The hand holding his in the air beside them, left before it came towards his face, pointer finger resting gently under his chin, thumb barely pressed against the top of his chin. He could oddly feel the soft digits that lay under a coat of dried blood. “We should leave, Hannibal,” he whispered, wincing at himself for the possibility of being caught yet again, so many years later.
“Yes, we belong together…”
The stereo crackled, the song continuing to play in the background. “Not yet mylimasis, I wish to enjoy this moment with you,” he cooed, urging Will back to their previous position.
“For eternity…”
Letting out a small huff in annoyance, Will succumbed to the other’s wishes and tucked himself back against the strong shoulder as their victims body laid gutted across the room. He closed his eyes, removing the thought of the third party’s presence from his mind. The repeating thump-thump-thump of Hannibal’s heart resting in his chest soothed him, the soft cashmere against his cheek and the tender pressure of Hannibal's thumb circling patterns on his back making him drowsy. He could easily ignore the heavy smell of blood…the human excrement sitting in the victim's clothing a little harder to ignore. Yet he focused on the moment, relishing in the pure adoration (love, maybe?) radiating from Hannibal. He felt as if there wasn’t a word strong enough to describe their bond - or the emotion they both held for each other.
“You’re mine, your lips belong to me…”
It was here when he thought of Abigail, thinking of how, in another life, they may sway gently altogether. Not in blood of course, but just gently in the living room they may have shared. Hannibal and Will would be taking turns, dancing with the little girl (little in only their eyes), that they took in as their own. An innocent father-daughter moment. But that wasn’t what fate had written, if there even was fate. Nothing happened unless Hannibal willed it, and Will was strangely ok with that.
“Yes, they belong to only me…”
Most of the blood covering them wasn’t theirs if that was in any way consoling. The blood on their bodies that was still a vibrant red, was theirs, as it slowly continued to escape their veins. Like the gash at the end of Will’s eyebrow, dangerously close to his temple, a result of falling on a shattered porcelain figure. Like the cut that wept just above Hannibal’s hip, where Will’s hands have not stopped gently touching around the area - every few seconds checking to see if it had magically gotten worse.
“For eternity…”
Hannibal smiled softly, nothing more than a little curl of the lips. He savored the way some of Will’s soft curls tickled his cheek, comically untouched by blood, unlike the unfortunate others. Heart squeezing, Hannibal recalled the other three times he had seen Will like this. Once, covered in the blood of all three members of the Hobbs family as he trembled on the kitchen floor, an image similar to one of his dogs sick with the flu. The second time, gutted by Hannibal’s pristine karambit, slowly dying next to loving Abigail on the once pristine kitchen floors. The third time, baptized in the blood of two serial killers, white shirt gloriously stained and cheek torn as he threw both him and Hannibal to a supposed death.
“You’re mine, my baby, and you’ll always be…”
The grainy quality of the slow music playing from the aging vinyl tugged at Hannibal’s soul, calling him to think of a simpler time a long time ago, long before his residence in the US - even before Italy. Replacing Will and him slow dancing on a blood-soaked carpet on a clear night, it was him and Mischa sitting across from each other studying an old checkers game board. Her round face scrunched up in thought, the baby fat slowly fading away as the years pile on causing a laugh to escape his young throat, perhaps the last carefree one to ever come from him. This was his last pleasant memory of her, of them together, music playing in the background - not quite matching the one of current time, but entirely too similar.
“I swear by everything I own…”
For a second Hannibal thought of Jack, how incredibly disappointed he may be of himself for failing to catch the ripper and lose his most prized asset, or maybe he was joyous - as if he truly believed that he and Will hadn’t survived the fall. He thought of Alana and Margot, how they both very well knew that he and Will were alive, how they most likely wouldn’t even bother thinking of them. He thought of Molly and Walter, his pride growing with the knowledge that they hadn’t been anywhere near knowing the true side of his partner. Finally, he thought of Abigail, whose body he had moved to his family’s grave, ‘loving daughter’ having been engraved under her name and above her lifespan.
“You’ll always, always be mine…”
A short and sharp rustle of Will’s head against his shoulder caused his eyes to narrow in observation, hearing a small whisper. If he hadn’t been paying utter attention on Will, he would have missed it. “I would remember this time,” he had said. Maybe Will believed he wouldn’t hear, or perhaps, maybe he knew exactly just how loud he would need to be in order for him to hear. Hannibal separated the two, ignoring the quiet grunt coming from his partner. Removing both hands from Will slowly, he watched him for a second or two, enjoying the way Will gazed at him in confidence and question, the extent of his nervousness no larger than a crumb.
“You’re mine, and we belong together…”
Cupping Will’s face between his hands, he brushed his right thumb atop one of the other’s stubbled cheeks just before catching his lips in a slow and hushed kiss. Lasting for just a couple more seconds, perfectly long enough for Will to relax once more, Hannibal unlocked their lips. “As I still remember our time at the museum, the memory never fleeting,” he whispered before repairing the stance of their dance.
“Yes, we belong together…”
Hearts and soul and mind intertwined, they stayed swaying. They stayed swaying long after the music had stopped.
“For eternity…”