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Blood & Water

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The first thing Nigel noticed about Baltimore was that it was fucking cold. Cold in that way that only cities, ill-prepared for winter or for civilization can be. He was fucking freezing before he even left the private airport he'd flown into.

Getting shot had fucking hurt, and it had fucked up the good thing he and Darko had going in Bucharest. He had plenty of backup plans, but Bucharest had been lucrative, and it hurt to lose it. As soon as he'd recovered, he'd put his ass on the first charter plane to the states, calling in a favor from a friend, so that he could see his brother.

All the downstairs lights were on in Hannibal's house as Nigel approached the door, stepping out of a cab and into the world of Baltimore elite. Nigel reckoned the shrubbery lining the sidewalks cost more than his entire flat back in Bucharest. And he'd lived in luxury.

He didn't hesitate as he reached the door, shifting his hefty luggage bag further up his shoulder, and knocking briskly and with purpose. There was a beat-up Volvo in the driveway and the sounds of movement behind the door. Nigel was sure he was interrupting something, but he knew he'd still be let in.

As soon as the door swung open and Hannibal was on the other side, Nigel tossed his bag down on the entry floor and took Hannibal's face into his hands.

"Twenty fucking years, you fucker. How the hell've you let it go this long?" Nigel accused, but there was no heat behind it.

Will was absolutely flabbergasted. No one talked to Hannibal Lecter like that. The tone of voice alone was enough that Hannibal's teeth would normally be set on edge, his jaw tight in that way that only Will seemed to notice. But he guessed those were the sorts of things you paid attention to when you were maybe, sort of, a little bit in love with your therapist and best friend.

"Nigel," Hannibal's voice was calm, a soft smile on his face that confused Will even further. "It is good to see you, brother." Hannibal accepted the fierce embrace as Nigel dragged him into his arms. Nigel got a peek at the elusive Will Graham over his shoulder and gave him a playful wink.

Even though he and Hannibal hadn't seen each other in nearly twenty years, they still kept in touch. Darko trying to teach Nigel how to use a tablet for video calling had been an ordeal he'd been happy to forget. He'd rather be fucking shot again.

"He's just as pretty as you'd described," Nigel observed, loud enough to bring a blush to Will's cheeks. "You know, I swear I've seen him somewhere before. Pretty little thing like that, I wouldn't fucking forget that face," Nigel stepped around Hannibal as they broke apart and took a few steps closer to Will, examining him.

Will was struck silent as he looked from one brother to the other. They looked so similar, clearly twins, but Nigel had a slightly more rugged appearance, scruffy hair that cut across his face in a sexy angled way, and a tattoo prominently displayed on his neck. His entrance brought the smell of tobacco and stale whiskey along with the distinct scent of airplane interior.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Will observed dumbly, the only thing he could manage to get out as he burned with embarrassment at Nigel's interest in him. Will had secrets that even Doctor Lecter didn't know and he wasn't sure he was ready to share them just yet.

"I do. Will, this is my twin brother Nigel. Nigel, I would like to introduce you to Will Graham," Hannibal offered as he shut and locked the front door, noting that the blush from Nigel's earlier comment still stained Will's cheeks. Wasn't that interesting. He had been noticing lingering glances towards himself from Will the past few times they had met for their conversations, but Hannibal was cautiously subtle with his flirtations. Nigel was never subtle.

Hannibal, while he was enamored with Will, was still planning on using him as a possible scapegoat if Jack got too close. Seeing the effects of the encephalitis that Will was currently suffering from was fascinating, and he was confident he and Nigel were going to have an interesting conversation about Will Graham when they were alone together.

Will shook Nigel's hand, noticing the man had the same callouses as he did from holding a gun. "I'm pretty sure we've never met," He said bluntly and quickly dropped his hand, averting his eyes but still managing to catch the mirth that glittered in Nigel's gaze.

Seeing Nigel and Hannibal standing next to each other was almost overwhelming, it didn't help that his headache, which had been a dull nagging reminder sitting in his skull for most of the day, was starting to become increasingly more painful with the help of the wine Hannibal had served him.

Nigel continued to study the man his brother was clearly head over heels for with a small smile. He hadn't been lying, Will was just as fucking pretty as Hannibal had described him, hell Hannibal had even messaged him one of his sketches of Will, and still, it didn't seem to compare with the real thing.

"You know what, I know why you look so familiar. Han, doesn't he look like the guy Jean was seeing a while back?" Nigel asked his brother as he shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him.

Hannibal gave a quiet hum of agreement as he hung up Nigel's coat. "Yes, I suppose. Are you hungry, Nigel? I was just preparing dinner for Will and myself. It would be easy to accommodate a third."

"Oh, Hannibal I should really get going. Besides, you need to catch up with your brother, and I don't want to intrude." Will quickly interjected as he tried to slide past Nigel to get to the door.

"Are you sure, Will? You know you are always welcome."

"Yeah, and I promise you wouldn't be intruding, gorgeous," Nigel added with a wink.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Again thanks for the offer but I should really get home to see to the dogs."

Hannibal nodded with a small understanding smile that he seemed to only ever use for Will. "Of course Will, please drive safely."

Once Will was safely in his car, he let himself exhale loudly, blowing out a puff of nervous air. What if this Nigel did know him from his past and it wasn't just a passing likeness to another person? His voice, it sounded so familiar. And not just because of his relation to Hannibal.

God, it would be so embarrassing for Hannibal to find out about Will like this. Maybe he should be preemptive and just tell him? Still embarrassing but perhaps slightly less mortifying.

He let himself sink into the memories threatening to overwhelm him, remembering a Will that was long since dead.

Then

Will was seventeen and freshly orphaned. A lifetime spent smoking a pack a day and drinking whatever rotgut he could find had finally brought down his father in the form of a heart attack. He'd been dead before the paramedics even arrived.

Beau Graham had not been a wealthy man, but he did have a little bit of money stuffed in the mattress, so to speak. Will skirted by for the few months until his eighteenth birthday and his graduation from high school, working in the boatyard and doing odd and end jobs for his neighbors.

Everything was going smoothly until a few weeks after his birthday, which had been spent home, alone, with a cupcake and one sad candle stuffed in the middle, brought over from Mrs. Richardson, a kind widow who lived nearby.

As he ate the last remnants of the cupcake and his hollow stomach growled, he realized he might have a problem. Money had been tight his entire life, he'd grown accustomed to skipping meals, but it had been over a week since his last job, and the pantry was empty. Actually empty, not even a moth to flutter out of them sort of empty. He'd eaten his last pack of ramen noodles, dry, the night before.

He had an ancient, sluggish computer that he dusted off and used to search for 'quick cash' options. That was how he found himself on the cam website. It didn't take him very long to shrug off any trepidations he had as he went through the quick sign up flow, verified his age, and started his first stream.

He had no idea what he was doing that first night. Thankfully, there had been a few site regulars who gave him some advice and an anonymous patron who sent him enough money to buy a better camera very early on.

After that, it was pretty smooth sailing. Will had always known he was different, and his empathy seemed to extend to the sexual as well. He could, through just a brief conversation, determine precisely what another person needed from him. Some of the patrons wanted him sweet and pliant, innocent and 'new to all of this.' Some wanted him fiery and defiant, putting up a fight and being bratty. Still others wanted to watch him inflict pain upon himself, or hear him say the filthy things they were desperate to hear.

Will was able to tap into all of it, and business was lucrative for a while.

"Fuck, Daddy. You feel so good, love the new toy you sent me, fills me up so good, just like I bet your cock would," Will moaned in the general direction of his camera. He was on his bed, sheets messy all around him as he wriggled around on his stomach, hair matted with sweat, and lube slick between his thighs as he fucked himself on a new toy one of his higher-paying patrons had sent to his PO Box.

"That's it, boy, fuck yourself on that massive cock. Turn around and let Daddy see your sweet little hole, baby. Wanna watch it stretch you out. Bet you've never had anything that big in you, have you, sweetheart?" The man was panting, a tiny image of him in the corner of Will's screen. He often minimized their camera feeds so that he could focus on himself and how he looked. Even from the small image, Will could see the man's chest heaving as he panted, his body shining with sweat. Will wasn't often attracted to the men who watched him, and Edward was certainly no exception to that.

With Edward, Will knew to wait for him to come first before he even asked to come. Edward wasn't as sadistic as some of his customers, but he had made Will spank himself with a hairbrush once for asking to come too soon.

"Yeah, Daddy. Stretching me out so good," Will panted, shuffling around on his knees so that he could spread his thighs wide and show the man his hole. Private streams were a rarity, most of his patrons didn't spend enough to qualify for a private show. But Edward had not only sent Will a few new toys, but he'd also sent Will a thousand dollars and a new computer for class.

He listened and smirked as Edward groaned his orgasm across the line and then Will was writhing, begging to come. "Please, Daddy, please let me come. I've been so good for you, done everything you asked," he pleaded, shifting to lay on his back, feet planted firmly on the bed as he lifted his hips enough to keep his hole exposed, pushing the massive dildo against his prostate with each inward thrust.

It took a few minutes, but finally, Edward was pleased enough to agree. "Go ahead and come for me, baby. Daddy wants to see you paint that pretty chest," he growled, and Will sighed his pleasure out loudly into the empty room, collapsing back on his bed with a satisfied giggle.

Now

No, Hannibal couldn't find out about Will's history. He'd been stupid to keep doing it for so long, especially even after he had graduated. He'd been a beat cop in New Orleans for a year before he'd even considered stopping.

He'd need to decide soon. He wouldn't risk exposure that wasn't controlled by himself.

***

"Well, that was one hot piece of ass, Han. Why the fuck you been keeping him all to yourself?" Nigel chuckled, pulling Hannibal into his arms and claiming his mouth with a playful growl. He hadn't seen his brother in far too long, hadn't tasted him in even longer.

But it seemed he would be forced to wait again as Hannibal ended the kiss quickly, pulling away to drift off to the kitchen.

"I am happy to see you, brother, but I was serious about dinner. Let me cook for you," Hannibal smiled, gesturing towards the high bar top and stools.

Nigel rolled his eyes, pulling out a stool and plopping down. "Who are we having, then?"

Hannibal heaved a put upon sigh and ignored the remark, opening his refrigerator and removing items.

"What happened, Nigel? It is unlike you to show up unannounced. Is everything alright with your business?" Hannibal started organizing ingredients on the countertop.

"Fuck, no, it's not alright. I got fucking shot. If you can believe it, right between the goddamn eyes. It's a miracle I survived. Best doctors money can buy, I suppose," he grumbled.

"Excuse me, what? You were shot, and you did not find that pertinent to share with me before now?" Hannibal's anger was like a blisteringly cold wind, and Nigel winced. He'd known Hannibal wouldn't be pleased.

"Brother, don't be mad. I knew you'd fucking worry, and you have plenty happening right here. It all turned out all fucking right in the end, anyway. I killed the cunt who caused all the trouble to begin with and Darko, and I moved our base of operations somewhere warmer - fucker's in Barcelona right now," Nigel chuckled darkly. "I only need to stay here long enough to figure out my next step. We're thinking of expanding to the states so it could be useful to have a home base here for now."

"You are, of course, welcome to stay here as long as you would like, Nigel, though I know you won't ask. But please respect my privacy and the delicate nature of my situation here by not bringing your business home with you," Hannibal allowed, making eye contact with Nigel long enough for him to know he was serious.

"I'll be out of your hair before you even fucking notice, promise. Now, tell me about that pretty boy that you're clearly so in love with?"

Hannibal, who had been chopping an onion, paused momentarily, startled by Nigel's quick and accurate assessment. During their twenty-year separation, he had forgotten how easy it was for his brother to 'see' him. He truly had missed Nigel.

"What do you want me to tell you that I have not told you already, Nigel? You know Will works for the FBI occasionally, and is seeing me so that Jack Crawford can have peace of mind." Hannibal stated plainly as he moved the chopped onion to a pan and began to saute it.

"Cut the fucking bullshit, Han. I know you have a plan for Will, and I think you need to tell me what it is because I can fucking see it from the five fucking minutes I stood in the entryway with you two that you're in love with him and too stubborn to admit it," Nigel pointed his finger at his brother for emphasis. "And I swear I've seen him before, I know I've heard his voice."

Nigel furrowed his brows and dug his phone out of his pocket, resisting the urge to light a cigarette. His brother would only tolerate so much of Nigel's rudeness and swearing, and he would prefer to not end up as fucking dinner just because he was too impatient to go outside and smoke.

Hannibal raised a questioning eyebrow at Nigel's last comment but left that for later. "If you must know, I believe Will is capable of seeing me, perhaps even understanding the both of us. I know he is capable of great things, but right now, I have a plan in place to frame him for some of my work." He paused, considering.

"The encephalitis currently setting his brain aflame is working well to make him believe he is unstable, thus making him more dependent upon me; and I plan to use this to my advantage."

Nigel looked up from his phone, brows furrowed and squinted at his brother. "Are you fucking kidding me? Hannibal, you can't be serious? Why the fuck would you set him up as the fall guy if he has the potential to understand us? That doesn't make any fucking sense. You must be losing your fucking touch, brother." Nigel knew how important it was for Hannibal, though the stubborn man would never admit it, to be understood, to be seen and to be still be loved.

Hannibal narrowed his eyes at his brother, he could see the anger and violence simmering just below the surface of Nigel's thinly veiled patience. His brother, it seemed, hadn't lost the ability to say just the thing to get exactly what he wanted. He supposed dinner would have to wait.

Hannibal switched off the burner before stalking around the center island to stand next to where Nigel sat, barely containing the desire to throw himself bodily at his twin. Hannibal reached out, lightning-fast, and grabbed a fistful of Nigel's hair, pulling his head back and baring his neck.

"Looking for a fight, are we?" Hannibal purred dangerously.

"You fucking know I am!" Nigel snarled, baring his teeth as he lunged off the chair, throwing his weight into Hannibal and sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Hannibal used his hold on Nigel's hair to his advantage, pulling hard and making it difficult for him to move or gain leverage as he landed a few punches to Hannibal's side and ribs. Hannibal managed to flip them and pinned Nigel to the floor after landing a few hits of his own, splitting Nigel's lip in the process.

Nigel was fucking pissed off and really fucking hard. This, this is what he'd wanted, been craving, for years now. No one he had been with over the years ever came close to understanding him like Hannibal.

"Are you going to fucking fuck me already?" He growled out, and barely resisted the urge to bite Hannibal's tongue off when he leaned down and licked the blood from Nigel's lips and chin.

"That depends," Hannibal said lowly, and he ground down against Nigel's hard length causing his brother to arch up into the contact.

"Fucking depends on what, mother fucker? The phase of the fucking moon?"

Hannibal glared down at his brother and shifted his grip on Nigel's wrists before backhanding him across the face. "On whether or not you can behave," Hannibal hissed out.

"Fuck, Han" Nigel bucked up, grinding against Hannibal's hard, cloth-covered cock. He knew that Hannibal was just as hard as he was, and wanted this as badly as he did. Twenty fucking years was too goddamn long. "Fuck me, goddamnit Hannibal, fuck me, please."

It was the please that did it, it always was. Nigel smirked in victory as Hannibal released his wrists and bent down to devour his mouth in a searing, dangerous kiss that was full of teeth and tongue.

Not wanting to waste time, Nigel undid Hannibal's pants and tapped his brother's hip, indicating for him to take them off. Hannibal pulled back from the kiss with a warning growl at being interrupted, but complied and stared at Nigel's cock with barely concealed hunger as Nigel undid his own pants and pushed them down his hips, barely to his knees.

"Have a taste, you know you've missed it." Nigel taunted invitingly as he grabbed his cock and stroked it a few times to let some of the pressure off.

Hannibal glared at Nigel, which only earned him a smirk in return. But his brother wasn't wrong, he had missed the way that Nigel felt and tasted in his mouth. Later he would be sure to savor and draw it out, but now, a quick taste would have to do.

Hannibal slapped Nigel's hand away before grasping his cock and leaning down to lick the head. He continued to lick and salivate all over Nigel's cock, as he reacquainted himself with the taste that was uniquely his twin's.

He reached for the closest bottle of oil - almond- that knocked it off the counter in his efforts to recover it, class shattering against the kitchen tile. Hannibal ran his fingers through the leaking liquid, smearing it between his cheeks and using it to lubricate his hole, pressing a cursory finger inside himself to make sure he was slick.

Nigel squirmed under Hannibal's attention, each lick and small suck left him gasping and aching for more. Just when he thought he'd have to beg, Hannibal moved and straddled Nigel's hips, lining himself up with Nigel's cock. Slowly, Hannibal sank down onto Nigel, inch by slow inch, Nigel was enveloped by the tight heat of Hannibal's hole.

"Is this what you have been wanting Nigel?" Hannibal questioned as he sank down and was fully seated on Nigel's cock. "Did you want me to fight you and then take you by force? Or have you wanted me to ride you and use you for my own pleasure? This is what you wanted before you even stepped foot on the plane to come here, was it not, brother?"

Nigel whimpered and nodded as his hands found Hannibal's hips and gripped them tightly. "Fuck, yes, it's all I could fucking think about, fucking missed you so much, not gonna last."

Hannibal practically purred at Nigel's confession and sped up his movements, causing Nigel to moan and throw his head back. "Are you going to come in me Nigel, fill me up just like you used to?" Hannibal groaned out as he began to stroke his own length, knowing he was close as well.

"Yeah, gonna fill you up so good, Han. Fuck, I'm gonna come," Nigel panted, hips snapping deliriously.

"Then come for me," Hannibal demanded as he continued to grind down and suddenly came all over his own hand and Nigel's stomach, feeling Nigel's cock flex as he released inside him.

Hannibal collapsed on top of Nigel, who wrapped his arms around his twin and kissed his sweaty temple before sighing contentedly. "I love you, Han," he whispered into Hannibal's hair, so low that it could almost have been missed.

"And I, you," Hannibal murmured against Nigel's neck before reluctantly sitting up. "Are you hungry?" He asked accusingly.

Nigel barked a laugh and smiled wolfishly, "Yeah, I could eat."

***

Will pulled up next to his little cabin and parked with a sigh. The porch light that he had left on served as a beacon in the darkness leading him home. He got out of the car and walked up the front porch and was greeted by wagging tails and happy faces as soon as he opened the door.

"Go on you guys," Will smiled as he stepped back and let the dogs stream out into the front yard. As he stood on the porch and watched his dogs mill about the yard, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his texting app.

He stared at it for a while before finally tapping out a message and hitting send. There was no taking it back now. The text was simple:

Made it home safely. Have a good night. -Will

But Will had never texted Hannibal goodnight before. "What the hell are you doing?" He mumbled to himself before pocketing his phone and whistling for the dogs. Whatever it was, he needed a drink before dealing with it.

He settled down with a warm glass of cheap whiskey, and several of his dogs sprawled out around him. He distractedly pet at Winston's head while he thought about the events of the evening.

Getting ahead of any sort of big reveal of his past seemed like the best solution. He needed for Hannibal to hear it from him so that Will wouldn't be blindsided by any potential fallout. While the doctor didn't appear to be a prude, you could never really tell how a person would react.

He sighed into his third glass of whiskey, his migraine coming back full force as he laid back on his lumpy couch, and eventually let sleep take him.

He was in a dark, heavily wooded forest and there was a light blanket of snow on the ground, the air was crisp and colder than Will had ever felt from a lifetime spent mostly in the southernmost states.

He heard shuffling in the trees, but everything was shrouded in deep shadows, the entire wood felt alive, cognizant and predatory in its watchful gaze.

"Hello?" Will tried calling out to whoever might be concealed by the trees, but there was no reply.

Suddenly, a scream, childlike and tortured, pierced the silent, snowy night. Everything shifted, and Will was now stood over the brutalized body of a man, his throat cut so deep that it was nearly detached from his body, one of his eyes glazed over in death and the other gouged out and hanging pitifully from its stem.

He could feel eyes on him again, and when he looked up he was met with twin sets of maroon-washed eyes, pinning him in place, two bodies covered in blood and sweat and matted, dirty snow. In unison they opened their mouths, blood poured from them like a river, and Will was carried away.

Will woke in a fevered sweat, a scream still clawing its way free from his spasming throat. He didn't know Hannibal's backstory, hadn't even known he had a brother until tonight, but somehow he knew that his dream had been more than a typical nightmare. It felt more real than anything around him right now in this liminal space between sleeping and waking. Perhaps he wasn't the only one with secrets to share.