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Jack had never seen Hannibal like this before. He had seen the stoic psychiatrist. He had seen the smug prisoner who wasn't really a prisoner. He had seen the Ripper. He had even seen the man in love. But never had he seen Hannibal Lecter this angry.
It had been a year since anyone had seen Hannibal and Will. The last known sighting of them was at the cliff house. The FBI had managed to track the cruiser they had taken from the crime scene and found the body of Francis Dolarhyde left in a pool of his own blood and a very degraded film. It took some intense work to repair the film, employing someone who Jack was certain was breeching 90 but he was the only one who still worked with film like that and was advanced enough to do the necessary repairs. There hadn't been much salvaged from the film, but it was enough to understand the gist. Hannibal and Will killed Dolarhyde and then the two of them vanished over the side of the cliff. Jack had never given up hope that Will was alive, and to some extent, that Will was being manipulated by Hannibal.
He had returned to Florence after all was said and done to look for them, but they hadn't appeared. There was nothing to indicate they were alive and not drowned and bashed on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.
That was until two weeks ago.
It had started with one body. Just one simple body left in a public place that had the distinct profile of the Chesapeake Ripper. Jack was about to retire from the FBI for a second time when the body dropped. It wasn't in the US, the FBI had no jurisdiction, but he was sent to look anyway, as extradition would be in order if it was actually Hannibal Lecter. The next day, another body dropped. And then another, and another. The streets of Paris were running red by the time Jack made his way to France. When the Parisian authorities finally apprehended Hannibal, he hadn't even bothered washing the blood off his clothes.
They had taken extra precautions to transport Hannibal back to the US. It was probably stupid to let Hannibal out of his restraints once they arrived at Quantico, but Jack could sense the energy radiating from him. The moment others stepped from the room, guns trained until the door shut, Hannibal was up and about, pacing the room like a caged animal. His clothes still hadn't been changed but for once, he didn't seem to care. Dried blood painted his grey sweater with brown splotches, almost resembling a Jackson Pollock painting. Hannibal was still pacing as Jack watched him from the other side of the one-way glass. He didn't know if the man had eaten or drank or done anything for himself by the time he was apprehended. He seemed to be on a rampage by the time he was caught.
And he was caught alone.
Now and then, Hannibal's eyes would flit to the glass as though he were looking for Jack to appear. After several more minutes of pacing, he heard the man took in a deep breath and finally, sit himself in one of the two chairs in the room. Jack looked at the other agents in the room, all of whom were ordered to shoot if Hannibal so much as twitched the wrong way. But the man just sat there, waiting for Jack to appear.
He took a moment to collect himself before entering the room. Even after everything, he still would sometimes look at Hannibal and see his friend. Just like he would still look at Will and see his friend. Except Will wasn't here now. It was only Hannibal.
After another minute, he took a deep breath and stepped into the room with the caged predator that was Hannibal Lecter.
The other's amber eyes shot to him the moment he entered, watching him carefully as he moved through the room to take the chair.
They sat in silence, evaluating one another as Hannibal folded his hands on the table in front of him, keeping them in sight. He knew how this worked.
Jack set the files he had down in front of him. They were more for posterity than anything. He knew the files by heart.
"You've given us quite the run around the last year," He began, looking down at the file as if it were more interesting than the other man.
"Where's Will?" Hannibal demanded.
Jack's head shot upward.
"Where's Will?" Hannibal repeated. His voice was calm, but there was a hint of a threat under it.
"I don't know," He answered quietly.
Hannibal leaned forward then, his eyes searching Jack's face for any hint of a lie. Seeming not to find one, he leaned back again.
"Why aren't you with him? What happened after the cliff house?"
Hannibal sighed and leaned forward again. His eyes were hard and threatening still and his posture made it very evident he wouldn't say anything.
"I don't know where Will is," He began. "But I am willing to make a deal with you." He had Hannibal's attention at that. "I will help you find him if you tell me what happened after the cliff house."
Hannibal cocked his head. The deal wasn't good enough for him. There was no guarantee that Jack would hold up his end of the deal. Part of him wanted to scoff at this. Hannibal was the murderer here but he was also a vehement man of his word. Jack had seen the tapes of the day Alana had approached Hannibal with a deal. Hannibal had noted he was a man of his word, and that Alana's life was at risk if he were to truly escape. Alana, Margot Verger, and their son Morgan Verger had vanished after that.
He sighed and folded his hands in front of him. "Fine. You tell me the last time you saw Will and we'll work from there. You give me bits and pieces and I'll help you find him."
He could see the cogs turning in Hannibal's head as he thought over the deal before he eventually nodded once. Jack waited.
"Will and I were in Cuba," He began. "Three weeks ago I went to bed and woke up with this." Hannibal had been thoroughly searched, and yet somehow he had hidden a note on his person. It was encased in a plastic bag which Hannibal opened and then handed the note to Jack. "It was a note to leave for Paris. And once I was there, nothing." His dark eyes darkened further as he stared at the note in Jack's hand. "That's not Will's handwriting."
Jack set the note down. There was absolutely nothing to go on.
Paris was a wide enough range, and he would have a hard enough time trying to find Will especially for Hannibal, given the fact that the man had littered the streets with bodies.
After a moment, Hannibal produced another note. Jack didn't want to know where they were hidden. He was quiet as he handed the note to him. Jack unfolded the note, seeing a splotch of blood on it and a single message.
Return to the US.
"So you got the FBI's attention because you're on a no-fly list. And you're back now." Jack sighed, sitting back. "And they chose Paris because we could extradite you from France."
"I thought maybe it was because the Parisian atmosphere does wonders for my complexion." Hannibal's uncharacteristic sarcasm and the stony look in his eyes was enough to tell him that he had already followed this train of thought.
This would be significantly easier to work within the US.
Hannibal stared at him now, watching him with that same intensity he always did. Jack took his chance to study the man up close. He wasn't afforded the opportunity in trying to transport him or even after Hannibal was brought back to Quantico. Hannibal's intense, angry energy was enough to deter anyone from standing too close. Jack was probably the one who had come the closest and not been subtly threatened with bodily harm. He tapped the note on the table in front of him, his mind turning.
"You understand that once we have found Will, the two of you will be placed in federal custody." He leaned forward. "There were probably easier ways to do this. You could have snuck back into the US the same way you fled a year ago."
Hannibal watched him, his eyes telling him what his voice didn't. Jack was missing something.
He sighed, sitting back once more. "But you needed the FBI's resources to try to find him.
"Whoever it is will know that you've taken me back into custody and back to the US. You'll have splashed it over every paper and news network."
Jack wanted to strangle him.
He watched Hannibal for a moment more before asking the question that had been looming at the back of his mind ever since he had watched the Dolarhyde film.
"What is your relationship with Will?"
The other man's eyes narrowed at the question but he stayed silent.
He knew it was ridiculous to poke a predator like Hannibal. But part of him wanted to get in a jab anywhere he could. "I ask because I have received calls almost every other week from Will's wife." He watched the other man. "You remember her? You tried to have her and her child killed."
Hannibal still said nothing, but that quiet, seething anger had returned once again.
He sighed, standing. "We'll do what we can to find him."
Hannibal was quiet still as he left the room.
Two weeks had gone by without any other information or any news at all about Will. Hannibal paced the cell they kept him in every day, running through hundreds of scenarios. How had he not noticed that Will had been taken? How had someone managed to enter the house without him knowing? How had they managed to subdue Will? He returned over and over to the last night he and Will spent together.
He could still see the other sitting across from him at the table. Will's hair was slightly longer now that they were in hiding. He had long since abandoned the ring. For a while, he had debated sending it back to his wife but ultimately decided not to, discarding it in one of his drawers. There was a long thin white scar on his cheek from the Dragon's knife which only became evident when Will smiled. Which he did considerably more now. They had been eating fish for dinner. Trout. Will had purchased it at a farmer's market earlier that day, bringing it back as a sort of joke.
Do you remember the last time we had trout? His ocean-blue eyes were sparkling as he twirled his fork, a piece of trout impaled on the end.
I asked you if you still doubted what I served at my table.
And you called trout a Nietzschean fish. Will smiled as he ate, his eyes sparkling with humor.
Will still fished when he had the chance, though the fish was different in Cuba rather than Virginia. His choice in clothing had stayed relatively the same as it was before, though Hannibal often found him working on some part of the house with only shorts on. Not that he ever complained. He was currently working on a boat that would sometimes serve as Hannibal's entertainment. He was one to work with his hands, but never to the same extent that Will did. As a result, Will had started explaining what he was doing as he put together each piece of the boat he was working on. Sometimes he would just talk about nothing in particular, a skill they were both adept at.
Hannibal found the story of his boat building after that night particularly fascinating. There were no secrets between them anymore. There was nothing left unsaid or to be said.
He had debated starting a practice in Cuba to give him something else to do. It wasn't as though he needed the money.
But he couldn't bring himself to leave Will, even for a few hours in the day. The two of them were always around one another, even if nothing really happened between them.
The first weeks after Will pulled them from the ocean were still a bit of a haze for Hannibal. He vaguely remembered talking the other through stitching him up and had a vague memory of fixing the wound on Will's face and shoulder. He had instructed them to head for Cuba, but he was certain Will had raided the cliff house for supplies because once they were on the water, they didn't stop for medications yet had plenty. Will had done most of the hard work when it came to making their way to Cuba. Hannibal had told him where the house was and how to find it. It was night by the time the other had dragged them through the front door.
Then spent the next few weeks regaining their strength, though Will still had plenty of his. Hannibal still remembered one of their more intense nights in the beginning when Will had hauled him against the wall in anger. There were only two times he had ever feared for his life and both were because of Will Graham.
After that, the other began finding things to do with his hands. The house in Cuba had been untouched for years. Hannibal bought it when he first arrived in the US, making certain it was always there as a backup plan. There was plenty that needed to be done on the house and Will seemed to find everything. Their relationship had dramatically improved after that, as the other expended his extra energy.
It had taken six months of them living together for Will to finally consent to letting Hannibal draw him. It was how he expended his extra energy.
They had fallen into an easy rhythm following that. Every morning was the same. They woke up around the same time, ate breakfast, Hannibal would swim for an hour while Will found something to do, and then Hannibal would inevitably find him working on his boat, they would talk and work on their individual tasks, and eventually, lunch would arrive and then dinner.
Hannibal had wracked his brain the morning after Will vanished, wondering if he had somehow driven the other away. Or if the note was Will's attempt at something. He even tried to think if there was a drug in the fish, but it should have been degraded by the preparation.
He had gone to Paris as the note requested and still, Will hadn't appeared. It was only when the second note appeared that Hannibal began to suspect something more.
That was over a month ago now and he had no proof that Will was even alive.
Part of him had wanted to answer Jack's question with a lie when he asked it. Part of him wanted to shove a relationship between him and Will in Jack's face. But the truth was, their relationship wasn't physical. And they had never discussed if either of them wanted it to be. They had only come to their peace after tension, and Hannibal was hesitant to disturb that. He didn't need Will physically, he just needed Will in whatever form he would let Hannibal have him.
All these thoughts ran through his mind as he paced a well-worn path in his cell. He wasn't allowed near anyone and even those who came stayed only for a moment. He hadn't seen Jack since Hannibal had been put in this cell and more and more, he was beginning to think that the man had gone back on his word. He was going to bury Hannibal in a cell and forget about Will completely.
Luckily, that day Jack had chosen to return.
There was another note in his hand, unopened. He approached the bars slowly, keen eyes on Hannibal's every movement. He walked closer, grabbing the familiar envelope and opening it.
"The blood on the second note," Jack began before Hannibal unfolded the page. "It was Will's."
He had suspected as much, but he had no way to confirm it.
His eyes dropped to the note in his hand and his eyes read over the same sentence over and over again.
"What does it say?" Jack asked.
"You'll take me with you," Hannibal demanded. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Take me with you. I'll cooperate once I see Will is alive."
Jack stared at him for a moment longer and then nodded slowly.
"My office."
Everything moved quickly from there. Hannibal was strapped into a jacket with the same uncomfortable mask he had worn when they were "transferring" him a year earlier. He and Jack had an armed escort to take them on the hour's drive to Baltimore. When they arrived, however, he wasn't greeted with the sight he thought he would be.
Will had just stepped out the front door as Hannibal was dragged from the van. All eyes were on him along with guns as he froze in place. Blood was matted into his clothes and his jaw swollen.
"Just me," He muttered not bothering to raise his hands.
"What happened?"
Will's eyes turned to Hannibal then, a question within their depths.
He knew he should have paid more attention at the Farmer's market. It had been a year since he and Hannibal escaped and three years since anything major had happened previously that involved the two of them. There were only three people out there who he thought would ever come looking for them. He knew there was no chance that Jack would have stopped, he was likely looking for them every day. Alana might, but he doubted it all things considered. And there was a small chance Molly would try. But even with her, he didn't think there was much of a chance.
He hadn't even thought about people who were directly impacted by everything that had happened all those years ago. He hadn't remembered those who were affected by the game he and Hannibal played. Collateral damage wasn't something that had concerned him at the time. Only Hannibal.
He had completely forgotten that there were others who their actions rippled to.
He should have noticed the man watching him in the market. He should have noticed that he looked familiar.
In truth, there were things about the previous years that he couldn't quite remember correctly. The year after Hannibal was incarcerated was the worst for him. He had spent most of that time in an alcohol-induced haze. That was before he met Molly though. After that, he could remember things clearer. But even before that, Europe, the months before it, the months that lead up to that damned night. He had bits and pieces of it. He couldn't help but think that part of it was repression.
He had never really had time to inspect Carlo Deogracias. He only had a vague memory of him and the only reason he knew the man's name was because he had committed every one of Hannibal's victims to memory. For a while, he had put himself on that list too. Only recently did he remove himself. Carlo was employed by Mason Verger and had been one of the men to drag Hannibal to Mason's the night Hannibal made Mason cut off his face and feed it to Will's dogs. He remembered, vaguely, the man say that Hannibal had killed another named Mateo. He would later find out that Carlo and Mateo were brothers.
But there was a third. A man named Tomasso.
He barely remembered Carlo's face, but he did remember the way his body looked after it had been half devoured by pigs. He had never seen Mateo though, but he learned that Hannibal had stabbed the man in his femoral artery. He bled out quickly.
He should have suspected that at some point, the third brother would be looking for revenge for his family, but honestly, it wasn't something that ever crossed his mind. He had thought that part of his life was behind him, or maybe even that the man had been killed after Hannibal's rampage at Muskrat Farm. But it seemed Tomasso was still alive.
Will was drugged the first week after he was taken. He didn't even remember the last night in Cuba, but he did remember going to sleep not feeling right.
Tomasso stated his plan to lure Hannibal to the US. Will, however, saw exactly how the plan would pan out. Hannibal would involve the FBI. That was if he didn't tear through half the world try to get Will back.
The second week, he was in and out, still drugged but not as much. By the third week, he learned his semi-lucid guess had been correct. Hannibal was in FBI custody.
Tomasso had debated killing Will during the second week after Will had found his chance to try to escape. He was certain his blood was on the second note sent to Hannibal.
Instead of killing him, however, he decided he wanted to make Hannibal sweat it out. For two weeks, or at least that what Will hoped it was, he bided his time. Tomasso had lost two brothers to Hannibal ultimately, Tomasso would make him see Will's death in return. He was hoping to lure the FBI in close enough to kill Will in full view before escaping for himself.
Unfortunately, for him anyway, he wanted Will to feel it. And therefore, he didn't drug him.
It was easy enough for him to free himself once he had a bit of lucidity. Mateo had died in the same office that Tomasso's blood was now spattered over. It wasn't a clean kill.
He was forming a plan to try to break Hannibal from the FBI once again when he walked right into the FBI arsenal with Hannibal in tow.
Fighting would be useless with all the guns pointed at him. So he waited patiently for someone to produce handcuffs and he climbed into the back of the van with Hannibal and a guard.
One, single guard.
He hadn't said a word after he and Hannibal made eye contact. He was silent, waiting. Just as Hannibal was next to him.
He waited until they were at the edge of the city to do anything. It was easier to escape the last time, but it certainly hurt just as much. Especially when he and Hannibal spilled into oncoming traffic. It took some incredibly quick movements and a role of the body to keep the two of them from being crushed by the oncoming squad car. They ran, neither of them turning back. He felt somewhat guilty when he stole a car, jumping in the driver's seat while Hannibal launched himself through the back door. There wasn't enough time for him to run around, nor for either of them to put on their seatbelts.
Will floored it, dodging traffic like a mad man until they were out of the city. He didn't stop driving until the car ran out of gas.
His head was pounding with adrenaline and the aftereffect of the drug. Hannibal was perfectly calm next to him, nothing like the wild predator he had glimpsed the moment he stepped from the office. He was honestly surprised that the office still belonged to Hannibal a year ago, he was even more surprised now. The two of them hiked through the wooded area parallel to the freeway.
"Do you think the past will ever leave us alone?" He asked quietly.
"The past is filled with a number of dangers. They quite enjoy reaching out to find us again."
"I thought after Muskrat Farm I was done with everything to do with Mason Verger."
"Was it Mason's ghost that found you in Cuba?"
"Us." He corrected automatically. He plowed forward once he realized, choosing for the moment to ignore the slew of emotions that accompanied his automatic reaction. "And in a way, yes. It was Carlo and Matteo's brother."
"How fitting that he died where his brother did," Hannibal said quietly.
"Not as nicely," Will answered. At that, he saw Hannibal's lips twitch next to him.
Will's mind chose then to bring back of his drug-induced dreams.
He and Hannibal were sitting at the edge of the pool in their house in Cuba. The two of them were letting their feet dangle in the water, talking about something obnoxious just to keep the conversation going. Will was leaning back on his forearms, his feet kicking slightly in the water while Hannibal was as perfect in his posture as ever. Will sat up to readjust his position and Hannibal caught him by surprise, pressing a hand to the other side of his face to turn his head, pressing their mouths together in a soft kiss.
The dream occurred in some various over the second week Will had been dragged god knows where by Tomasso.
"What did the FBI walk into when they stepped into my office?"
Part of the team that stayed, the reason why only one guard went with Will and Hannibal, was there to secure Will's crime scene.
"Did you know that the fireplace pokers were still there?" He asked quietly, stepping over a twig. "After all these years, they're exactly where I remembered them. In the same order."
"They were iron if I recall correctly."
Will bit back to the urge to say something sarcastic about Hannibal's recall abilities. Instead, he nodded.
"They were." He paused, listening as a siren sped past them on the road. They were walking in the opposite direction of where they abandoned the car, heading toward a rest stop they saw beforehand. "He kept me drugged. I don't know with what." He saw Hannibal twitch at that, likely fighting some urge to check Will now that they were relatively alone. "I managed a good swing at one point. I don't know where we were." He gestured to his face, likely still swollen where Matteo had punched him. "I knew the moment we entered your office." He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reach out to the other. "He kept me by the fireplace. Never lit it thought. He told me he would make me feel my death. You killed two of his brothers, he wanted you to watch. He should have kept me drugged, but he didn't. I grabbed the poker and swung the first time, not really aiming. I think I caught his head." Will paused, his mind returning him to the moment in the office.
It wasn't one swing. It was several over a short period of time to all different places of the man's body. He heard bones snap and felt the poker drag on skin as he pulled it back. The other man was barely standing by the time Will skewered him with the poker, leaving him semi pinned to the wall.
Hannibal didn't push him once he fell into silence.
Neither of them had killed for a year. It wasn't that Hannibal didn't want to, Will knew he did. He just didn't even though Will had never asked him not to.
All it took was one undealt with thread from their past, and both had killed when the time came.
"We can't go back to Cuba can we?" He asked quietly.
"Unfortunately, no."
"I don't suppose you have some other hidden house that we can go to?" He was asking sarcastically.
"Of course," Hannibal answered. "I'm nothing, if not prepared."
He couldn't help himself then. There was no restraining the strange, needy desire that bubbled through him. All their other unspoken rules were broken, why not this one as well?
He grabbed the other's arm, pulling him to a stop, and before he could change his mind, he lunged for him, grasping the other's face between his hands and pressing their lips together rather harshly. The momentum of the two of them propelled them until Hannibal's back hit a tree. The other didn't hesitate, didn't pause for even a moment, as he returned Will's kiss. His arms wrapped around Will's body, pressing them close together. He wasn't surprised how easily their bodies curved to one another. He wasn't surprised to find that the moment Hannibal pressed him closer, one of his arms dropped, moving between Hannibal and the tree to grip the other as well. He wasn't surprised to find that their kisses devolved into something far more primal, with teeth and tongue. He was certain he tasted blood and that it was his own, but he didn't care.
He was surprised he didn't do this earlier in the day when he had paused for only a moment to gently lift the mask off Hannibal's face. But he had been too focused on something else than to even bother with something like this. This deserved intimacy, this deserved privacy. This deserved only Will and Hannibal, even though he didn't think Hannibal would care much and would even go so far as have sex in public if he found it entertaining enough.
They eventually pulled back for breath as Will tried to focus on Hannibal more.
When had it become dark?
"We should keep moving," He breathed, watching Hannibal's eyes drop to his lips.
He noted distinctly that both were aroused, and he knew there was only one way to force the other to move. Appeal to his hedonism.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips next to Hannibal's ear. "I'm not fucking you on the forest floor."
Hannibal's mouth was back on his at that, and again he tasted copper.
They were moving again a moment later, both of them breathing heavily and walking faster now.
It was another several hours and a few stolen cars before they were far enough that Hannibal could find a way to access his accounts. Part of him wanted to laugh at the fanciness of the car Hannibal insisted on renting. They would have to continue out of the country before they would even have a chance of flying. Everyone would be on the lookout for them now, especially given that they had escaped from FBI custody again.
Will drove for hours until his eyes began to blur. Hannibal offered to take over, but after sleeping for so many days, he was hesitant to sleep again. And there was the unspoken promise he had given Hannibal.
"Pull over," Hannibal said quietly.
He pulled them off the road, losing them in a trail that wouldn't be noticed easily. He turned off the car, shaking his head as Hannibal went to open the passenger side door. Will had lived in a car for a short time in his life. It wasn't exactly preferable, but he knew how to move through a car easily after that. He pulled himself through the space between the passenger and driver's seats, climbing into the back. It was awkward, especially as his limbs were longer now, but he made it without hurting him or Hannibal. He pulled down the back seat which opened into the trunk.
After a moment, Hannibal leaned the seat back before climbing with much more grace to join Will in the back.
"One of us should stay awake." He said, settling himself next to Will.
"I pity the idiot who tried to come close even if we're asleep."
Will yawned then, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Are you cold?"
He shrugged in response. Hannibal was lying on his side, watching him while Will lied on his back.
"It's a good thing it's summer." He rolled on his side, facing Hannibal.
"It still gets cold at night in the summer, Will." Hannibal studied him for a moment. "What did you see?" He furrowed his brows in response. "You're refusing to sleep. What did you see in your dreams that has you so afraid to return?"
"It wasn't the dreams," Will answered quietly. "It was the sleep itself. It was not knowing if I would wake up or how long it would be until I did." He was staring at the other now, trapped in the dark gaze he knew was watching him in return even if he couldn't fully see it in the dark.
"Come here."
He should feel some kind of way about dragging his body so close to Hannibal's, but at this point, there were only a few barriers left between them, and all of them were fabric.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes," Will answered immediately.
"Then trust that I won't let you sleep for too long."
"I doubt that. You'll probably wake up before I do and insist on driving."
"It wouldn't be the first time I drove while you slept. But even then, you won't have to fear that you won't wake." Hannibal's hand brushed over his cheek and through his hair.
Will pushed forward then, pressing their lips together in the dark. Hannibal's hand fisted in his curls, kissing him in return. He shifted closer, pressing their bodies together, their kisses becoming needier and hungrier again. He gripped the other's hip, rocking against him slightly. It should worry him that this man was able to arouse him so easily and vice versa, it seemed, but now he was too tired and wound up to care. They were pawing at each other like teenagers as his hands found their way to the edge of Hannibal's shirt. The other pulled back slightly, giving them a chance to breathe.
"What was it you said?" Hannibal asked, surprisingly breathless. "You wouldn't fuck me on the forest floor. But a car will suffice?"
Hannibal's words ran right through Will's body to his already achingly hard cock.
"Never heard you cuss before, Doctor."
Hannibal hummed in response before claiming Will's mouth once again. He was surprised that Hannibal would tolerate such an act in the car, but he wasn't going to complain. He pressed forward, rolling them slightly so he was half on top of the other. The other's hands gripped his hair and hip, bodies grinding together. He was glad they had found new clothing somewhere along the way, as trying to pull off Hannibal's jumpsuit would be far harder than his shirt.
"Will," Hannibal said, stopping his hand as he tried to pull off the other's shirt. "You should sleep."
"This will put me to sleep."
In truth, he was slightly stalling his sleep. But god he wanted Hannibal.
Hannibal seemed to accept his excuse, letting Will finally tug his shirt free. He pulled off his shirt immediately after, leaning down to kiss the man under him. For such a brutal man, Hannibal was surprisingly gentle as he caressed Will's body.
"I was worried about you," The other whispered against his lips.
"What did you do?"
Hannibal rolled them. "I don't think Paris will appreciate my return any time soon."
"You were angry." Why Will needed Hannibal to state as much, he wasn't sure.
"Yes." Hannibal pulled back slightly, looking at Will as best either of them could do in the darkness. "I thought I lost you."
"What would you have done if you did?"
"I don't know."
He pulled Hannibal's head back down, pressing their lips together once again. Hannibal was warm against him, his body firm and familiar. It was strange how intimately they knew each other and each other's bodies without once ever having been physically intimate. They were wrapped around each other in every way, and now there was one more. Just one last way to tie them together in anything that mattered. They were in each other's heads, they had bathed in blood and were reborn from the sea, they had tangled together so tightly that there was no separation for them. Not anymore.
Hannibal rolled off him as the two of them began tugging at the remainder of their clothing. He was back on him in an instant, bare bodies pressing together.
Part of him was here with Hannibal, while another part was watching him tear through the streets of Paris, covered in blood and sweat.
Hannibal pulled back slightly, running his fingers over Will's jaw and into his hair. "Normally I would prefer to take my time, but I won't have you delaying your sleep much longer."
"Hannibal," Will began but the other silenced him with a kiss.
"Don't think that my rushing now means I won't take my time with you later. I'll have you again if you permit me."
"Yes," He breathed.
The other shifted then, grasping at the center console and pulling out a bottle of lotion. Given their lack of materials, he supposed it was the best they could work with. Hannibal shuffled back down, settling himself on top of Will once again. They were kissing again while Hannibal busied his hands. He wasn't quite certain what he expected to happen next until Hannibal had wrapped around his cock. He groaned slightly, as the other spread the lotion over him until his whole shaft was slick.
"I do recall that you promise to fuck me," Hannibal purred in his ear just as he began to lower himself onto Will.
"You're terrible," Will groaned as Hannibal sunk fully.
He groaned at the tightness and heat of the other's body. Will pulled the other down against him, burrowing his face in the other's neck. They were still for a moment longer before he rolled them, putting himself back on top of Hannibal. The other moved willingly and he idly thought that Will was likely the only person he would submit to. It was an exciting thought, but one he would have to save for later.
He pulled back slightly, then thrust slowly into the other. Hannibal moaned softly, and he bent to capture the other's lips once more. One hand wrapped around one of Hannibal's thighs, pulling it upward and depositing his legal round his waist. The other moved easily, pliable under Will's grasp. He began to increase the pace of his thrusts. Hannibal lifted his other leg, wrapping it around him, trapping Will against him while he increased his thrusts. Their bodies ground together as the two of them panted in unison, mouths only inches away from each other.
He couldn't see Hannibal, but he didn't need to, to know what the other looked like. He could see his face easily in his mind, and what exactly he must look like in the throes of pleasure. Their bodies moved in tandem, Hannibal bucking up into every one of Will's thrusts. After an eternity, he reached between them, grasping the other's cock in his hand and moving in time with his own thrusts. Hannibal groaned under him, his heels pressing into Will's back to force him faster.
He knew the moment he found Hannibal's prostate as the other let out a broken moan.
And every thrust after that was purposefully aimed to hit the same spot over and over.
Idly, he noticed that the car was squeaking under their movements.
Pleasure ran through his body like a freight train, pounding through his head and into his fingers and toes. He was overly aware of Hannibal's body, as though it were his own. He knew every muscle that flexed and every nerve that twitched. He knew exactly where Hannibal's mouth was as leaned forward, demanding a kiss once again. Hannibal pillaged his mouth with a wandering tongue, no longer as gentle as he had been before.
He both was and wasn't surprised when their bodies tensed at the same time. It was rare to finish at the same time as a partner, but he supposed that when two people were as in tune as he and Hannibal, it was more likely.
He dropped his forehead against the other's as he came, his body twitching.
It was only as the haze of his orgasm cleared that he remembered where they were and the fact that they only had a few bottles of water to use to clean them up. He was surprised that Hannibal didn't seem to care, only interested in chasing his mouth claiming kiss after kiss even as Will pulled from him.
It was a make-shift job to clean them up, both of them dressing again afterward. He shuffled closer to Hannibal once more, feeling the other embrace him willingly. Their lips met again, in another quick set of kisses before Will shifted himself, settling under the other's chin.
He went to sleep surprisingly quickly.