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The rain pattered softly against the windows and the glooming clouds overhead stayed far, far away. Hannibal finished wrapping the bandage around Will's knuckles, taping it and gently patting it. He looked up and gave Will a warm smile.
Will was deep in thought. His body ached everywhere, which was to be expected. He was tired and his entire life had just blown up before him. Sitting in one of Hannibal's safe houses, locked away in a small part of Alaska, Will almost felt safe. He didn't watch Hannibal as he tended to his wounds, bandaged him up and softly wiped the blood from his cheek. Will couldn't stand to think what Hannibal thought of him in the moment.
"What's on your mind, Will?" Hannibal asked, sitting back in his chair with his hands folded in his lap.
Will scoffed amusedly, looking up at Hannibal. "Are you handing me a free session, Dr. Lecter?"
Hannibal smiled again. "For you, my friend, all of your sessions could be free."
Will's own smile faded and he looked over at the window. The rain continued to become heavier and heavier, pelting down on the glass. But yet, Will's mind was louder — screaming a million different things at him at once.
"Do you forgive me?" Will whispered, not turning to face Hannibal again until after he was done speaking.
Hannibal adjusted in his chair. "I do. I forgive you, Will. I don't think there is a lifetime, a universe we live were my feelings were not majorly positive about you."
Will looked into Hannibal's eyes. His expression softened. He didn't know how to feel, about any of this. He didn't anticipate surviving the fall and yet he knew he would grateful eternally that he did. Will couldn't live without Hannibal alive, but he couldn't live with Hannibal alive either. Instigating the fall was supposed to be Will's surrender, and yet somehow Hannibal had won again. But this time was different. This time, Will wasn't mad that Hannibal won. Because a life with him, as corruptive as it may be, is better without him.
"What are those feelings? The ones you have about me, exactly?" Will asked, leaning forwards slightly. "How do you feel about me, Dr. Lecter?"
Hannibal raised his head slightly, eyeing Will. Will shared his same expression. Hannibal took a minute.
"I feel attracted to you. The same way a needle and thread is attracted to a piece of fabric. I see you, Will. I see you in myself and I see myself in you. When we first met you said you didn't find me interesting. You were reluctant. You were different." Hannibal looked away for a moment. "I could see that you were what I needed. And at first it was that. You were my cover up, the one to blame of sorts. But after a while, you and I began to blur." Hannibal met Will's eyes.
Will caught the reference to a conversation the two had had years ago, instantly. If he tried, Will could probably remember everything Hannibal had said to him.
"The line between where I saw you as something to use and someone to love began to blur. You're so… unlike everyone else. Radiant. A sort of radiance one would see in the sun, trickling over a flowing stream. Or the warm glow of a fire on a winter's night. I was so obsessed with the idea of you, I began to become obsessed with you as well."
Will leaned back, rubbing his palm. He furrowed his brow. "You're in love with me."
Hannibal's smile came back once more. "I know."
"When Bedelia told me, she said you were… hungry for me. You are or were planning on eating me." Will responded, crouching foward again.
"I thought I had to eat you because I was under the assumption that devouring you was the only place to put my desire. Hunger and desire go hand in hand. I want to honour you, Will. And maybe honouring you does not have to be… eating you." Hannibal glanced up at Will through his eyelashes, watching him.
Will stood up slowly and stood directly in front of Hannibal. Hannibal wanted to honour him. The thought alone made Will himself hungry for something he had refused to even think about on the past.
"I'm not guilty anymore. Guilty about how my feelings towards you, Dr. Lecter." Will's tone had remained quiet.
"Do you forgive me, Will?"
Will lifted his hand and brushed the back of his knuckles against Hannibal's hair. His eyes were directed lazily onto it, stroking back and forth.
"Despite who I am, there is a very rational… very basic part of me that wishes I didn't forgive you. Even in the slightest. You narrate a large majority of my thoughts, you're in my dreams, my hallucinations. You have become part of me. I don't entirely forgive myself, but the parts that I do, seem to appear a lot like you."
Hannibal didn't answer. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on Will's face. Let himself feel Will's warm hand so slightly brushing against him. Hannibal reached up his own hands, placing them surely on Will's hips. He moved his head closer to the other's stomach, almost laying his chin there.
Will adjusted his brushing so his fingers were weaving through Hannibal's hair, the strands seeping onto his fingers.
"I'm not a devotee, Will. I have never… been dedicated to one certain deity before. After I lost Mischa it was hard to believe that devoting my self to anyone or anything would bring any good. You bring out something new in me, Will. Not just love. But devotion. I want to be devoted to you." Hannibal pressed his chin against Will's stomach, gazing right up at him.
Will looked down at him. Devotion. Hannibal was a smart man. A smart man who knew all his feelings very well and Will knew that. To think he, and only he had brought something new to Hannibal, something he had denied the existence of… that brought something new into Will.
Will smiled, his gaze darkening lightly. "I would let you devote yourself to me. Only you. It only seems plausible when it's you."
Hannibal's eyes showed everything that made Will feel beyond the norm. They should plead, request, submission. Hannibal was offering himself to Will on a plate, but in the sense that Will would join him on the plate.
"Only you. It only seems right when you are the one I am honouring." Hannibal murmured.
He pressed his lips tenderly against Will's clothed stomach, feeling his fingers tremble. Hannibal intended to take and pick Will apart, one by one, in the order that Will wanted. He intended to start and stop as Will instructed. He intended to be a good devotee. Just as Will wants.