Work Text:
Hannibal peeled off the surgical gloves and tossed them in the trash.
He was done with this project for today. He would work on it more tomorrow, but for now he was hungry and tired, ready to wind down for the evening. He locked the basement and turned on a record as he rolled up his sleeves to begin cooking. He felt some tension leave his shoulders as he washed his hands and began to dice vegetables, the melody of the opera filling the air.
He would be going to the opera in a few days, and there was a charity gala next week. He was obligated to make appearances at such things, and he usually found a way to enjoy them. Regardless, he had recently found the constant bid for attention and approval to be grating, and his inspiration was lacking.
Life was becoming dull, even with his hobbies and his dance with the authorities. He needed something to add some excitement into his life.
A knock came at the door, and Hannibal frowned. It was late in the day for guests, and he was not expecting anyone. His only condolence was that it was not again a census taker waking him up far too early in the morning.
With a sigh, Hannibal wiped his hands on a towel, stopped the music, and went to the door. He would leave them on the doorstep without answering, but he intended to find out who it was at the very least, not considering it would be rude not to answer.
Hannibal took a calming breath before opening the door, praying for patience to not kill them the moment he laid eyes on whoever had interrupted his evening.
Hannibal’s breath caught in his throat as he saw who it was. It was the most beautiful person Hannibal had ever laid eyes on. His dark hair fell in curls around his face, and his eyes were a startling shade of blue when they flicked up to Hannibal’s face for only a moment. The young man was dressed in police blues, and they did wonders for his form, hugging his narrow hips and tight around his muscular arms.
“Mr. Lecter?” the boy asked, staring at Hannibal’s tie.
Hannibal blinked in his surprise, but managed to gather his senses.
“It’s Doctor Lecter, actually,” he said, “and yes, I am he.”
The boy nodded, glancing around the front of Hannibal’s house, as if unable to make eye contact. Or managing his expectations.
“I have some questions for you,” he said.
Hannibal thought he understood, then. He should have known the moment he was faced with a young police officer who was this strikingly attractive. Whoever’s idea this was, he would have to make sure they knew this was not acceptable.
“I think I see,” Hannibal said, passing a hand over his face in his exhaustion, “and I apologize. Would you please tell me who it is who requested your services? I will be sure you are compensated for your time and the inconvenience.”
The boy blinked, uncomprehending. Then, understanding dawned, and his face flushed at the same time as he huffed indignantly. He set his hands on his hips, doing nothing but accentuating his narrow waist and making him look all the more delicious.
“I beg your pardon, Doctor Lecter,” he huffed, “but you’ve got it all wrong. I’m officer Graham, and I have questions for you regarding the murder of Jeremy Olmstead.”
That pulled Hannibal from his tired uncomprehending state. He looked more closely and realized he had been mistaken in his first impression of the young man. He cleared his throat and shook his head.
“My apologies, officer,” he said, “I fear I am a bit fatigued, and am not thinking properly. I thought you had been sent by an acquaintance of mine, in some misguided attempt to either get me to relax or to put a stain on my reputation. Again, I apologize. Please come in. I was just making dinner.”
The young man considered it for a moment, a crease forming between his brows.
“This isn’t a social call, Doctor Lecter,” he said, clearly a bit hesitant, “A man is dead.”
Hannibal nodded, smiling a bit.
“I understand, officer. I would be more than happy to help. That is, as long as I am not a suspect. Then, I would request having my lawyer present.”
Graham wet his lips nervously, but Hannibal knew he would agree. Even if he was a suspect, he knew they had no evidence to arrest him on, and he was careful. If all else failed, he could always kill officer Graham. If his supervisors knew he was out conducting interviews, especially suspects, he would have a partner with him. That meant young officer Graham was doing this off the books and of his own volition.
Poor young man, so eager to please and impress. He was a fool.
“No, you’re not a suspect,” Officer Graham said eventually, “At least not at the moment. If you’ll answer my questions, that would be a lot of help.”
Hannibal smiled and stepped back to let the young man through, noting the gun holstered on his hip along with a steel set of handcuffs. If he had looked closer before, both things would have shown the boy to be genuine authority rather than what he had guessed.
“If you are hungry, I would be more than pleased to feed you dinner as well,” Hannibal said with a small smile, “It is the least I can do for someone helping to keep our streets safe every day.”
Young officer Graham frowned, considering Hannibal.
“Let’s see if you can help me with the case before we get ahead of ourselves,” he said.
Hannibal was fascinated. There were not many people who were this resistant to his charms without some reason. Officer Graham seemed determined to carry out his task, and to not let Hannibal distract him.
That felt somewhat like a challenge, even as Hannibal was already quite tired.
Once in the kitchen, Hannibal set back to his work as officer Graham pulled out a notepad and pen, starting in on the questions.
“Were you working in the Emergency Room on the 27th of September three years ago?” Officer Graham asked.
Hannibal was surprised anyone had thought to look into that particular information. Jeremy Olmstead had been on Hannibal’s operating table that day, but he had long since recovered and had likely forgotten about it nearly entirely himself before he had died.
If he was right about officer Graham’s reasons for being here, it was quite possible he was the one Hannibal should truly be worried about.
“I’m afraid my memory may not be quite that good,” Hannibal said, “and that time of my life was hectic. But I kept a detailed journal all through it, so it may be of some help to you. The journals are at my office, if you would care to visit me again someday during office hours.”
Graham frowned, but he seemed to be considering it.
“This case was a bit unusual,” he offered, hoping to jog Hannibal’s memory no doubt, “he was brought in with an arrow through his leg. He had fallen out of a tree while hunting and impaled himself. On his thigh.”
Officer Graham touched his own thigh in the place where Olmstead had been impaled, unintentionally exhibiting his body once more for Hannibal’s viewing pleasure. It was an endearing lapse in forethought in Hannibal’s opinion, and he didn’t deny himself a good look at the young man. It was almost a shame his first impression had been incorrect, and he thought Graham would make much more money if he had pursued that career path.
But then they wouldn’t be here, and Hannibal was beginning to think he might get something out of the young man despite it all.
“It does sound familiar,” Hannibal admitted, “But I hope you are aware that it is not actually all that unique. Emergency rooms see far stranger cases nearly on the daily. During hunting season, there are many men who either shoot themselves or otherwise display poor decision making.”
Officer Graham nodded, a bit morosely.
“I knew it was a long shot,” he admitted, “especially because it was so long ago. I might stop by your office sometime to see if you can track down that journal, though. If you don’t mind.”
Hannibal smiled.
“Not at all, officer Graham. As I said, I am happy to help in any way I can. Will you be staying for dinner?”
The young man hesitated, clearly unsure. He was quite an enticing vision, even though Hannibal was aware there wasn’t likely to be that kind of payoff at the end of the evening.
“Call me Will,” the young man said with an air of resignation, “I haven’t gotten used to being called officer, and I’m grateful to you for trying to help me.”
Hannibal smiled, his expectations for the evening shifting slightly.
“Thank you, Will. It’s the least I can do. I would be pleased if you would stay for dinner.”
Will nodded, offering a tired smile. Hannibal wondered if he had been working overtime off the clock for very long, and why he would be doing such a thing when it could not be good for him.
“Then I’ll politely accept the offer,” Will said, and now there was a hint of a southern drawl to his words, “But I warn you, my dinner conversation might not be fit.”
Hannibal nodded his understanding. He was amused by that, and curious if he would be able to get Will to talk about the case he was working. He was clearly eager to find someone who understood what he did.
But Hannibal would have to be careful. The very fact Will was here showed that.
“I think you’ll find there is very little that can ruin my appetite,” Hannibal said, “I used to work in an emergency room, as you know.”
Will smiled, and he seemed to be relaxing by increments. He had accepted the seat at the counter Hannibal had offered him, and Hannibal thought he didn’t seem in any rush to leave.
“Why the change from surgery to psychology?” he asked, “You were a great surgeon.”
Hannibal was flattered, as well as wary. It was clear Will had done his research before coming here.
“I killed someone,” he stated.
Will nearly fell out of his seat in his shock at hearing that, and Hannibal laughed softly.
“Shit. You were joking,” Will said, laughing softly, “You really shouldn’t do that. I’m a cop.”
Hannibal grinned.
“Yes, I can see that,” he said, giving Will an obvious once over, “the truth is that I failed to save someone, and it felt like killing them.”
Color rose to Will’s cheeks once more when Hannibal ogled him, but he pressed on resolutely.
“That must happen all the time in the emergency room,” he pointed out.
Hannibal nodded.
“For myself, it happened one time too many. Surgeons who are unaffected by the deaths of their patients are not role models in my mind. I would not want to numb myself to it.”
Will considered that for a long moment, his own eyes skating appreciatively over Hannibal’s form. Hannibal noted his gaze was particularly drawn to his hands and exposed forearms. He couldn’t help but be pleased to see Will beginning to open himself to Hannibal, becoming vulnerable to his charms. Perhaps tonight would have a pleasant twist after all.
“How noble of you,” Will said, and there was a note of bitterness in his tone, “remaining soft in a cutthroat world. I hope you don’t live to regret it.”
Hannibal studied Will carefully, puzzling over him. Perhaps he resented Hannibal for having the luxury to choose such a thing while so many were forced to become hardened in order to survive, but it felt like that could not be the whole of it. There was something else bothering Will.
“Why did you think I’m a stripper or an escort?” Will blurted, snapping Hannibal out of his musings. Will’s face turned a bright shade of red and he dropped his gaze to the counter in front of him.
Hannibal smiled.
“I’m sure you are not unaware that you are very attractive,” He said, and watched as the words registered in Will’s mind. To his surprise, it seemed Will hadn’t been aware, or at the very least hadn’t believed it was true. He was flustered. It was terribly endearing.
“Additionally to your appearance, you are quite young to be a police officer, especially conducting interviews about a murder. You came late in the evening, and without a partner. If you were in my place, what would be your first impression?”
Will opened his mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. He blushed darker and nervously ran a hand through his hair. Hannibal was helpless but to watch the action, and he felt his fingers itch with the desire to sink into those dark curls. The boy did not even realize how much of a temptation he was, which was a crime of itself.
Will sighed and shook his head.
“You’re right, and I should have seen it,” Will admitted, “I guess I was just so caught up in the investigation I didn’t stop to think how it would look. Thank you for calling my attention to it.”
Hannibal nodded.
“If it had not made me feel so much like a fool, I would say it was my pleasure,” he said, and Will smiled as well, “but if I may ask, why are you out conducting interviews without a partner?”
Will nodded as if he had been expecting that.
“Because it’s off the books,” he admitted, “Chief won’t sign off on this line of inquiry, so I have to do it on my own. But I have the approval of someone higher up, so I won’t get in trouble.”
Hannibal raised an eyebrow. If someone higher up wanted him doing it, they should have ordered it to be done. This was very off the books, which could get a good many people in trouble if it went wrong.
“Is that not dangerous? You could be in the home of a violent criminal.”
Will nodded.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, “but the guy I’m after is too clever to kill me if I don’t actually suspect him. Just doing interviews shouldn’t be too dangerous for me. And I know how to handle myself.”
Hannibal nodded, wondering if Will did suspect him, but was hiding it so well he didn’t know. In order to leave alive. If he did, he hadn’t figured it out until after agreeing to dinner. He was far too clever to have agreed to spending more time than necessary in a murderer’s home. And much too clever to try to make an excuse and leave after figuring it out. He wouldn’t want to rouse Hannibal’s suspicions.
But he might not have figured anything out. Hannibal would not make any assumptions that could ruin what he still hoped to be a pleasant evening.
“How is it that your chief will not allow you to do this work, yet someone with more power has asked you to do it off the books?” Hannibal asked.
Will huffed a bit, running a hand through his hair.
“Folks in the department aren’t exactly impressed by someone like me,” he said, “young guy thinks he knows better than all the experienced professionals. That’s how they see me. They think I see myself as a hotshot, trying to show them all up. But I made my case to the FBI and they’re following my progress. If I get this one, I have a spot in the bureau reserved just for me. At least that’s what he says. If the chief knew, he’d be spitting mad, say I’m going over his head. And I am. But he won’t know until it’s too late.”
Hannibal smiled. This was a unique situation indeed. The fact that Will was telling him all this meant he certainly didn’t suspect anything, and perhaps he was feeling comfortable. If he was as tired as he seemed, that could have been contributing to his loose tongue.
“You must be quite the young mind to be sought after by the FBI before you are even used to your title as officer,” he noted.
Will blushed lightly and shrugged.
“I’ve got a- well, a thing,” he said, clearly unsure how best to make himself understood, “I understand other people really easy, just by seeing how they act. It means I can understand and predict criminals quicker than other people can, so I can catch them.”
Hannibal nodded, more curious than ever. He wanted to learn more about Will, and he was glad he had already offered an excuse to see him again, in order to look for the journal. If he played his cards right, he could stretch that evening out for quite a long time.
“I am honored to have you as a guest in my home,” Hannibal said, “I certainly feel safer knowing you are looking out for my interests.”
Will raised an eyebrow.
“I’m typically more of an agent of revenge than a protector of persons,” he said, “I don’t prevent crime. I just punish the people who do it.”
Hannibal smirked.
“A destroying angel,” he said, “You really must be more careful with the words you use. That could be thought in some circles to be flirtation, especially considering our previous misunderstanding.”
Will blinked, for a moment not understanding what Hannibal meant. Then, he lowered his gaze as color again rose to his face. Hannibal could not help but find Will’s blush attractive. He might not have been so blunt in his pursuit if he had not already been tired when Will had arrived. As it was, his bluntness appeared to be paying off.
“I guess this is my trial run, then,” Will said, “You can catch all my mistakes so I don’t give anyone else the wrong idea.”
Hannibal nodded, then offered a finished plate of food to Will.
“I would normally bring you into the dining room, but I think the formality would make you uncomfortable.”
Will nodded, studying the food with fascination as Hannibal sat down across from him.
“You’re probably hoping to ply me with your fancy food and sweet talk, and get me into your bed,” Will said, startling Hannibal, “If not tonight, you were probably hoping to get there whenever I show up at your office to look at that journal.”
Hannibal was stunned into silence, his mind racing with what Will had said and what it meant. If his motivations were that clear to Will on this subject, what did that mean for other things he thought were hidden? He had not realized Will was aware of these manipulations, so the young man could well have been playing him this entire time.
Will grinned.
“Just a couple words and I’ve got you looking like a fish out of water,” he said, “I’m sorry, Doctor Lecter, but you’re not as clever as you think you are. I told you I’ve got a knack for this.”
Hannibal huffed a laugh, trying to recover his senses. Despite the very real danger Will posed, or perhaps even because of it, he was even more attracted to him now, and wanted him very desperately.
“Forgive me for underestimating you, Will,” he said, “Since you are aware of it, I must ask, is it working?”
Will laughed, throwing his head back and letting his hair bounce enticingly. His laugh was beautiful, and Hannibal wanted to press it between the pages of his mind to preserve it.
“Not a hint of shame in you,” Will said, “and I’ll be damned if it isn’t just. You’ve got one hell of a tongue on you, doc, and I could use a break from work.”
Hannibal raised an eyebrow, surprised by Will’s boldness and willingness to reciprocate with a man he hardly knew. This could be quite a dangerous game, and Hannibal didn’t know which of them it was more of a risk for.
Life had become much less dull in the span of a single evening, and the evening was not yet done.
“If this is all off the books, then you would not be breaking any rules by indulging tonight,” Hannibal offered, genuinely curious how far Will would let this go.
Will huffed.
“Nah, but I’ve already broken plenty,” he said, “so that’s clearly not stopping me.”
Hannibal smiled.
“Then what is stopping you?” he asked.
Will took a bite of food and made a sound of pleasure that was nearly indecent.
“I’m starving, that’s what,” he said, “And I’ve read about your cooking. It doesn’t disappoint.”
Hannibal huffed a soft laugh and shook his head.
“I do try to never disappoint my guests,” he said, “and I am pleased you are enjoying it. It does beg the question, though, how much have you read about me?”
Will considered that as he chewed another bite of food. Hannibal was gratified to see he was genuinely enjoying it. Hannibal’s usual audience didn’t show it as plainly as Will did, and it was refreshing.
“Probably more than you would think,” Will answered, “I wanted to know who I was talking to. It also gave me a baseline to compare your behavior to, so I could notice anything weird.”
Hannibal was amused by that, and impressed by Will’s dedication. The boy was quite a hard worker. It was unfortunate he had chosen a career that was likely to chew him up and spit him out, as it were. To use the young man’s own term, it was cutthroat.
“And have you?” Hannibal asked, raising an eyebrow, “noticed anything weird.”
Will laughed again, this one more subdued.
“You might find it rude of me to say, but you’re a pretty strange guy all around,” he said, “Isolated socialite, cooking on a professional level for no one but yourself, Leda and the Swan on your dining room wall. All of that is pretty weird.”
Hannibal was surprised.
“When did you see the painting in my dining room?” he asked.
Will shrugged, waving in the direction of the dining room.
“We walked past the entrance to the dining room. Across the way, you have a set of glass doors. I saw the reflection of it as we passed. Strange choice in general, but, the dining room? You certainly like to make people uncomfortable. It probably helps you to keep control of any situation, when those around you are already knocked off kilter. Especially because they won’t want you to see how uncomfortable they are, because they want you to like them.”
Hannibal grinned.
“You enjoy letting people underestimate you, Will,” he said, only slightly accusing, “because you can stay three steps ahead of them if they have no idea where they’re going. I am quite impressed.”
Will grinned back.
“Another point for me, then,” he said.
Hannibal tipped his head.
“Are you keeping score? Where do we stand with one another in that case?”
Will considered it for a moment.
“Right now, I’ve got the lead,” he said, “But only just. You’re a surprising guy in your own right. We might be more evenly matched if I hadn’t caught you after a long day.”
Hannibal found Will all the more amusing with every word he said. That his goal for the evening was known and reciprocated made him anxious for their meal to be over. That was unusual for him, as he would normally savor each meal, especially if he had a guest he found interesting.
Will put another bite in his mouth, his eyes scanning all around the room. It was not a searching look, but rather an idle glance. All at once, Will froze, even his jaw ceasing its movement chewing the bite of his dinner.
Hannibal watched, careful not to show he was aware of the shift in Will’s demeanor.
Will had even stopped breathing for a moment, but at last he swallowed and let out a soft sigh. He looked nervous.
“Okay,” he said slowly, turning back to look at Hannibal. A crease had formed between his brows and he was frowning. “We’re even. If I’m right about this, you really got the jump on me, and I’m the one who underestimated you.”
Hannibal raised an eyebrow, his heart beating quickly in his chest. That too was strange, as his pulse was usually steady through all of his activities. Will had a unique effect on him, and he wondered if he would get to experience it more.
“What are you thinking, Will?” Hannibal asked.
Will wet his lips nervously, and Hannibal was helpless but to track the movement. As dangerous as Will was, he was as tempting as a siren song.
“I didn’t even ask what it is you made for dinner, but you would have lied even then,” Will said, “I’m eating part of Jeremy Olmstead, aren’t I?”
Hannibal tipped his head. Will didn’t seem truly disturbed by that concept. Rather, he seemed ashamed he hadn’t figured it out sooner. He didn’t appear at all afraid or uncomfortable, as if he had no reason to fear Hannibal despite what he knew now.
“Are you enjoying it?” Hannibal asked.
Will paled slightly, likely realizing Hannibal had noted his lack of fear and was aware of why that might be. He didn’t speak, though. He didn’t say a word to object or defend himself.
“Do you expect me to kill you now?” Hannibal prodded, wanting Will to come back to himself.
Will considered it, slowly relaxing again.
“If you do, I doubt you would make a tableau of me,” he said, “you don’t know how much of a trail I left that could lead to you. If you kill me, would you eat me?”
Hannibal grinned widely. This was an even more interesting turn to the evening than he had expected. Will had certainly cured him of his ennui.
“If I killed you, I would savor every part,” Hannibal answered, “and to answer your previous question, no. This is not Jeremy Olmstead. Our dinner tonight is quite a bit more fresh.”
Will’s breath hitched, and Hannibal was pleased to note that his pupils blew wide. Will was not at all afraid, even in the face of potential death.
“Well, damn,” Will said, “I guess I’m not getting into the FBI.”
Hannibal laughed.
“If you are amenable, I believe I can help you close this case after all,” he offered, “we can help one another.”
Will’s breathing became slightly labored, and Hannibal couldn’t help but smile. He stood and Will followed.
“Shall we go to bed?” Hannibal said, offering his hand.
Will was quick. Quicker than Hannibal had expected. Another point for Will.
Hannibal’s back was against the wall, and one end of the handcuffs were around his wrist with a snap. Will had an arm braced across his chest, pinning his shoulders to the wall. Their faces were very close, and Hannibal was thrilled.
“For that trick, I’m going to have to say no to the bedroom,” Will said, his tone low and dangerous despite his flushed face and blown pupils, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t work together. For our mutual benefit.”
Will closed the distance between them, kissing Hannibal deeply. Hannibal, to his own credit, didn’t allow his mind to become entirely clouded by his lust. He quickly utilized Will’s distracted state, clipping the other cuff to Will’s wrist.
Will pulled back, looking down at where their hands were now tethered.
“You are bound to me now, Will Graham,” Hannibal said, “If you betray me I will destroy you.”
Will huffed, apparently amused.
“And if you betray me, I’ll make sure you end up caught. We’re bound to each other, ensuring mutual destruction. Or, we can be proper partners in crime. Only time will tell.”
Hannibal grinned, again surprising Will as he flipped their positions, so Will was now pinned to the wall. Will was a vision, panting slightly and flushed. Hannibal put his cuffed hand to the wall above Will’s head, pulling Will’s hand up along with it. Will looked quite young and helpless, but not at all afraid.
Hannibal got to work on the buttons of Will’s shirt, entirely pleased with this outcome.
“You are quite dangerous, Officer Graham,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Will’s neck.
Will keened slightly, clearly trying to control himself, and huffed softly.
“Says the serial killer. Imagine what your fancy friends would think of you if they could see you now.”
Hannibal hummed, feeling Will’s free hand searching for any place to hold on.
“They would be horrified, no doubt,” Hannibal answered, “but I am more than satisfied.”
Will eventually decided to hold onto Hannibal’s tie, holding him close by the tether as he struggled slightly against the handcuffs.
“I should hope not,” Will chided, “We only just got started.”
Hannibal grinned and bit Will’s shoulder.
Wicked boy. Will Graham would be the death of him.