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Cinnamon and honey. He inhales some more. The silky curls tingling his nose as he nuzzles, parting the strands as he moves to kiss. More kisses. He smells again. Such an addiction you are, my beautiful boy. I’m doomed.
Their limbs will never be disentangled. No. Don’t leave my bed. Our own.
He shifts, he needs those lips. If I cannot wake up to this every morning then why should I wake up at all?
The tip of his tongue knows how to part those lips. Part them for me. Give me more. He breathes him in. Cinnamon and honey. Cinnamon and Honey and Whiskey. My love.
Will sighs and seeks the crook of his neck where he digs his nose, presses his lips, sucks a languid bruise.
A metallic sound. Hard. Loud. He wakes up. After all this time, his back still hurts. Never will he accustom to that pathetic excuse for a mattress.
“Hands flat on the wall, Lecter” A command. Barely rude. He doesn’t even move.
Do it, I’m here with you. Sweet words purred against his ear. Then a kiss. Do as you are told.
So he does.
Breakfast. Hideous.
But he is there again. His legs are crossed and he looks at him from the floor. His smile shines brighter than all the sun a blue sky could dare show.
Delicious, Will teases.
You are.
Will blushes. Come on. Eat. You need to eat, Hannibal.
So he does.
The rest of the day hurts through time. Long and impossible. But he is always there, curled up against him as Hannibal reads. Cinnamon and honey. He turns his head to the soft velvet of Will’s skin. More kisses until his lips feel numb.
It is extremely difficult to concentrate with you being so close to me.
Will laughs. Oh, that lovely sound. Hannibal closes his eyes. No. He opens them almost immediately because he doesn’t want to miss his face when it crinkles.
That won’t do. I am always with you. Now Read.
So he does.
The night finally shows, allowing him to join him in bed. The air smells sweet and ripe. And Will. Hannibal wraps his arms around his waist and there is nothing else there but their embrace. Cinnamon and honey.
Then Alana comes. She just needs to see, to make sure the past is right and he is trapped. She even enjoys. He wants to say things that don’t belong to him. So low. You are better than that, just listen to the music. Our song.
So he does.
He lives for the light Will brings through his glass. The one in his mind. The Cinnamon and the honey. Now this is his life.
Every day is the same. Months. Years. His glass prison feels like pause.
I miss you, my beautiful boy.
More kisses. Always more.
Hannibal. I will find my way back to you. Wait for me.
So he does.